


Magicians have no business marrying

by Nefertiti_22002



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: AU, Anal Sex, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-02-25 21:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13221684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nefertiti_22002/pseuds/Nefertiti_22002
Summary: An AU with the premise that the story starts with Mr Strange unmarried. He and Mr Norrell conceive an instant passion for each other. Mr Strange moves into Mr Norrell's house, and they succumb to frequent bouts of irresistible passion. Becoming aware of this, Mr Lascelles and Mr Drawlight determine to implement schemes which will make Mr Norrell angry with Mr Strange and cause him to break off with his young pupil. Can their deviousness overcome Mr Norrell's love?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a suggestion from Verecunda. Thank you!

On the day after Mr Strange had performed his momentous trick of exchanging Jeremy Tott’s obscure and notoriously dull book, _English Magic_ , and its mirror reflection for Mr Norrell, the younger magician arrived at Hanover-square promptly at nine o’clock in the morning to take breakfast and discuss with the Greatest Magician of the Age his upcoming studies.

When Mr Strange was shown into the dining-room, Mr Norrell was pacing about in a very cheerful state. He went to a chair and bade Mr Strange sit down across from him. He rang a little bell, and they were served breakfast. While Mr Strange partook of eggs, kippers, toast with preserves, and strong tea, Mr Norrell ate sweetened gruel and drank hot chocolate.

After the meal was cleared away, Mr Norrell moved to sit nearer to Mr Strange and presented him with several sheets of paper. Mr Strange laid them out on the table to peruse them.

“This,” Mr Norrell said delightedly, “is a syllabus of the course I suggest that your studies should take.”

He watched as Mr Strange slowly skimmed through the sheets, a smile growing on his face.

“This would take, at my best estimate, Mr Strange, about three years, possibly as much as four, for every book mentioned will lead you to others, and you will end by reading more than the titles listed here. Still, I could wish that it were much longer.” He gazed rather wistfully into Mr Strange’s eyes.

“Sir, it _is_ a long time, and yet I feel both from what you have listed here and from your kindness that I, too, could wish it even longer.” He gazed back with a similarly wistful little smile.

This wistfulness became mixed with uncertainty as they continued to stare at each other. Their breathing became noticeably deeper. There was a tiny moment when each seemed to quiver, as if exerting considerable will power to restrain himself from some precipitate action. 

Mr Norrell gazed at Mr Strange with an odd expression upon his face as though he would have been glad of something considerably beyond a little conversation with him, but had not the least idea how to begin. 

Taking heart from this, Mr Strange slid uncertainly to the edge of his seat, leading Mr Norrell to assume a pleasantly surprised expression and then slide forward himself. After further hesitation, Mr Strange stood up, and Mr Norrell soon imitated him in this as well. Then, breathing even more heavily than before and sharing a single impulse, they suddenly threw themselves into each other’s arms. Mr Norrell barely had a chance to mutter a shutting and muffling spell for the doors than their mouths met in a frantic, deep kiss.

Mr Norrell had clearly never indulged in such an activity before, but he made up in enthusiasm for what he lacked in experience. He learned quickly as well, and soon the two magicians’ tongues were entangled in a most arousing way. Indeed, both gradually became aware that their erections were struggling to get at each other through the plackets of their breeches.

At last they pulled apart, and Mr Norrell said, “I believe that I wish to …” He glanced furtively around, though there was no one in the room but themselves, and continued more softly, “… to commit, um, b-buggery with you!” 

Mr Strange nodded emphatically and replied, “I do as well, sir!”

Mr Norrell looked about again, this time with an obvious sense of urgency. “Mr Strange, where should we … or how? I simply cannot wait!”

“Nor can I!” He stooped quickly and looked under the table. “No, I do not think that would support your weight without tipping over.” He straightened up. “If you could perhaps bend over that chair … That’s right. May I, uh, remove your breeches and smallclothes?”

“Do so, Mr Strange, without delay!”

Mr Strange did so as hurriedly as might be, and soon both articles of clothing were cast aside. He then unbuttoned his own breeches and soon had pulled out his fully rampant cock.

Mr Norrell, still bent over, looked around impatiently, but his eyes grew wide. “Oh, Mr Strange, your, uh, member is most impressive. Do you mean to enter me with it?” He seemed both eager to try and worried about the difficulty of the endeavour.

“Yes, indeed … if I can only …” Mr Strange surveyed the room anxiously until his eyes settled upon the sideboard, and he said happily, “Ah, there is some butter left, and napkins as well. Exactly the sorts of things we require. Yes, I think with care I can enter you. It will take a little time, I fear, for I do not wish to hurt you any more than necessary. Um, could you shift your feet further apart? Thank you.”

Mr Norrell fidgeted slightly as Mr Strange proceeded to apply a good deal of butter to his puckered entrance and to press and rub it, eventually inserting a finger. To keep Mr Norrell from becoming impatient, he reached around with his other hand and stroked his tutor’s erection firmly but slowly. Soft gasps and then increasingly loud moans of pleasure resulted, and Mr Strange continued to loosen the tight ring as his fingers found and glided repeatedly over Mr Norrell’s pleasure point.

Mr Norrell began to keen, his hands gripping the back of the chair until the knuckles turned white. Realizing that the man was on the verge of coming, Mr Strange eased back with his fingers and concentrated on loosening Mr Norrell’s arsehole. At last he felt the opening relax. Mr Strange applied what was left of the butter to his own member and eased the tip slowly inside. Mr Norrell stiffened and gasped, and Mr Strange froze. 

“Try not to clench up, sir. You will soon adjust to it … I hope.”

Mr Norrell breathed deeply and finally said, “Go on … slowly.”

Gradually Mr Strange pushed further inside and began gently thrusting. He recommenced stroking Mr Norrell’s shaft. As Mr Strange’s cock slid a few inches inside, Mr Norrell again jerked. He shifted his feet even further apart, urging Mr Strange to go faster. Given the urgent nature of their desires, it was not long before Mr Norrell uttered a strangled-sounding groan and repeated it with each spurt of his seed that splashed onto the seat of the chair.

Mr Strange allowed himself to let go, thrusting hard a few times and shuddering as he reached his release.

They paused, letting their breathing return almost to normal. Mr Strange leaned over Mr Norrell’s back and hugged him, placing soothing kisses on the back of his neck. Soon he felt himself about to slide out of Mr Norrell, and he grasped one of the napkins he had placed to hand and wiped the other magician before going on to clean himself. Then Mr Strange wet another cloth from a pitcher of water and carefully removed the sticky drops from the chair. When he finished, its seat was damp but held no evidence of their recent activities. They pushed the chair under the table to hide the damp spot.

Mr Strange wrapped the wet napkin in the dry one and set them aside momentarily to fasten his breeches and assist Mr Norrell in resuming his clothes.

Eventually Mr Norrell stood facing him and reached out to take Mr Strange’s hands. “Oh, Mr Strange. That was … absolutely wonderful. When I invited you to study with me, I did not do so with the thought that we might actually engage in such intimate interactions … but I believe that deep down inside I must have wished that it would happen.”

“I must confess, sir, that I accepted your kind offer with the wish, not buried quite so deeply within me, I suspect, that we might engage in, as you say, such intimacies.”

Mr Norrell stared at him, his mouth slightly agape with surprise. “Did you, Mr Strange? I must say, I felt that there was an immediate friendship and understanding between us, born of our mutual devotion to magic, but I had no idea that our affinity ran so deeply.” 

Mr Strange picked up the soiled napkins. “We must not leave any thing of this sort lying about as evidence of our … uh …”

“A-amorous congress,” Mr Norrell suggested. 

“Yes. We also need to plan ahead a little better next time … assuming there is to be a next time, sir. It was sheer luck that there were some napkins and butter close to hand.”

“I very much hope that there will be a next time. You are right that upon such future occasions we must be more careful. Just now I did not have time to think through such practicalities. I simply wanted you too much. Um, Mr Strange, is there no way to do the same sort of thing but with us facing each other? I should like to see you during such an arousing activity.”

“Yes, absolutely we can face each other. I would prefer that myself. It is just that we were so eager to enjoy each other that there was no time to seek a more appropriate place.”

Mr Norrell smiled. “I am so relieved that you felt the same way I did! I was quite terrified of speaking and then finding you completely uninterested in doing such a thing with me, Mr Strange.”

Mr Strange hugged him. “I myself was rather nervous about how you would respond if I revealed my desire.” He kissed Mr Norrell’s cheek. “By the way, may I call you ‘Gilbert’ now—when we are in private that is?”

Mr Norrell considered this as if it were a new and unusual concept. “Well, I suppose so, Jona—that is, Mr Strange. Oh, I shall have to get used to our new circumstances before I …” He stretched up to kiss Mr Strange on the mouth in a leisurely way. Finally they reluctantly drew apart, and Mr Norrell added, “Now, however, I think it would be best if we retired to the library and began our first lesson. Our first lesson in magic, that is.” He chuckled dryly.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

That first lesson went well, as the two magicians already felt quite comfortable and companionable after their unexpected bout of passion.

Shortly after noon, they set aside their books, carefully bookmarked, and their notes, carefully labeled. Mr Norrell said, “You are from Shropshire, as I recall, Mr Strange. Where are you staying in London?”

“At quite a nice little hotel near Covent Garden, sir. Not expensive, but in a quiet street.”

“That sounds very pleasant, but surely now you will wish to find more long-term lodgings in order to pursue your studies. The most logical—and desirable—thing would be for you to move into my house. There are several bedrooms going unused, and it would save you so much time in coming and going for your lessons—not to mention the economizing in expenses like rent. And … we should be able to be together more in the evenings as well.”

Mr Strange was grinning by now. “And possibly at night, too.”

“Yes, quite possibly.”

“Gilbert, I accept with great pleasure. It makes perfect sense for us to be together as much as we can.”

“Fine, then perhaps tomorrow you would care to bring your things with you when you come for your lesson, and we can settle you in. I shall direct the maids to make up the room next to mine.”

Mr Strange chuckled. “Very convenient, I’m sure.”

“Very. Ah, there is the gong signaling lunch. It always is struck five minutes before a meal is served. Of course, my invitation to live here includes all your meals. I look forward to many fascinating conversations as we eat. Oh, I should mention that Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles often dine with me as well. I do not pay them any salary, of course, but they spend a good deal of time here and do me many services.”

Having met those two gentlemen during his first two visits to Mr Norrell, Mr Strange nodded with a notable lack of enthusiasm and followed his tutor back to the dining room.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

After lunch the two magicians returned to the library. Mr Strange looked expectantly at Mr Norrell, since they were scheduled for a second lesson that afternoon. Instead, Mr Norrell looked rather inquiringly at him, shifting his feet slightly. 

“Um, Mr Strange, would you feel … that is, would it … would it be too soon for us to repeat our amorous activities of this morning?”

Mr Strange looked at him with surprise and a faint smile. “It is soon, to be sure, but that is not to say that it is _too_ soon. But am I never to have the lessons for which I am ostensibly here? I cannot spend all my time satisfying your desires, after all,” he said with a chuckle.

“Of course not, Mr Strange. But we had a perfectly pleasant lesson this morning after our first act of amorous congress. Such an act does not consume a great deal of time, after all … Oh, I see. You are teazing me. I must admit that I am not always quick to recognize when I am being teazed.”

“To be sure, I was teazing you. I am in fact quite delighted that you should want me again so soon. But to be practical, do you not feel a trifle sore in your … nether regions? Doing it again so soon might be, well …”

“A trifle, yes, Mr Strange. It did hurt a bit when you entered me this morning, but the overwhelming sensations that soon resulted banished any sense of pain. I do … um, feel the need to repeat those sensations.”

Mr Strange surveyed the front of Mr Norrell’s breeches and realized that his tutor was not exaggerating in the least. 

“If you are certain that this is what you want, I would not be at all averse to our performing, um, amorous congress in the same fashion.”

Again they embraced eagerly, and Mr Norrell put the muffling and sealing spell on the door. The pair looked around for a suitable support for their passionate interaction.

“I would prefer not to bend over a chair again,” Mr Norrell commented breathily. 

“I understand. What about this table? It is a sturdy library table, not an elegant dining-room one. I believe it would stay upright under vigorous activity. I shall just … put this down as a cushion for you.” He plucked a lap blanket that Mr Norrell kept draped over the arm of the sopha for moments when, as frequently happened, he felt chilly. It provided a soft surface upon which Mr Norrell could lie, once his breeches and smallclothes had again been removed. 

“Oh, but Gilbert, something is required to lubricate us to ease my entry. We have no butter here.”

Mr Norrell blushed but replied at once, “No, but I keep a jar of salve in my desk drawer, ostensibly for dry hands but … I admit that I sometimes feel the need to, um, relieve my arousal by … you understand.”

Mr Strange shook his head. “I am not at all surprised to hear it! No, don’t bother. I shall fetch it. Which drawer?”

“The upper right.”

“Ah, yes. And I shall have to sacrifice my handkerchief to the cause … which will be well worth it.”

Once Mr Strange had prepared Mr Norrell—a process made easier by the fact that his entrance was still somewhat relaxed from their earlier lovemaking—Mr Norrell bent his legs and grasped his knees to allow Mr Strange to carefully enter him. He winced slightly at first, but soon he grimaced and moaned delightedly as he felt the same sharp pleasure that he had experienced that morning.

Mr Strange coaxed Mr Norrell to place his legs around his waist, and he began to thrust, softly at first and with more vigour as Mr Norrell began to keen with mounting arousal. Despite his growing abandonment to pleasure, he looked up at Mr Strange with a smile, and the other magician smiled in return and began to stroke his rigid cock. The two stared into each other’s eyes until their excitement peaked and their eyes slid shut in bliss.

After remaining still for a short time, Mr Strange leaned over to kiss Mr Norrell’s cheek. He gently lowered Mr Norrell’s feet to the floor, so that he could slide off the table. They embraced, leaning against each other as their panting subsided.

Finally Mr Strange cleaned them with his handkerchief before fastening his breeches placket and putting on his vest. At the same time Mr Norrell pulled up his breeches and buttoned them with some effort before resuming his vest and jacket. As they turned to face each other, Mr Strange smiled and straightened Mr Norrell’s wig.

“Oh, Mr Strange! That was even more thrilling than this morning’s amorous congress! Being able to watch you while we did it was quite exciting.”

“I understand perfectly. This morning I could tell that you were enjoying our activities because of the noises you made and the way you moved. Still, seeing your reactions was better still.”

Mr Norrell sighed and gazed into his face. “Is it any wonder I should want to watch you? You are so beautiful, Mr Strange!”

“And you, Gilbert, are so …”

“Yes, Mr Strange? You can hardly have been going to say that I am beautiful as well. I am hardly under any illusions on that score.” 

“Um, I was just thinking that what I was about to say about your appearance is perhaps too disrespectfully personal for someone who is my tutor and a great magician.”

“Nonsense! We agreed to call each other by our first names, in private, of course. That and what we have just done—twice now!—are extremely personal. I realize I have not yet actually called you by your first name, but I am sure I shall manage it eventually. But you were about to say …”

Mr Strange grinned affectionately. “I was about to say that you are thoroughly adorable.”

Mr Norrell looked quite startled. “Do you think so, Mr Strange? I doubt there are many who would agree with you, but after all, I do not care a whit about _their_ opinions. If you consider me …” He cleared his throat. “ … um, adorable, then I am more than pleased!”

The two were about to embrace each other, but instead each moved abruptly apart, for they had heard footsteps approaching the library door from without. (Mr Norrell’s muffling spell was carefully worded to allow noise from outside the door to be heard inside the library, but not the reverse.) At once Mr Norrell whirled to face the table, stretching over and pulling a large book toward them. He moved more quickly than Mr Strange had imagined he could, especially in the aftermath of their recent vigorous coupling. Mr Norrell called out “Come in!” in response to a knock at the door.

“And so you see, Mr Strange,” he said in a dry, lecturing tone of voice as the door opened, “Martin Pale’s historical position as the last of the Argentine magicians gives his work an undeniable weight. He may have lived considerably after the last of the Aureates, but he had the advantage of reading many of the records and accounts penned by the other Argentines. He even claims to have been taught by Catherine of Winchester herself, though, of course she had been dead for two hundred years at the time, and there is much dispute about how much credence one should give that claim. I myself …” He paused and looked across at Mr Lascelles, who stood in the half-open door. “Yes, Mr Lascelles?” he asked in a tone that some might interpret as mildly annoyed.

“I beg your pardon, sir. Lucas explained to me that Mr Strange is now studying with you and you are not to be interrupted during his lessons.” Mr Lascelles gave Mr Strange a distinctly cool look. “I told him, however, that it might be necessary to remind you that we are due to call upon Sir Walter Pole in about half an hour. I have called for your carriage to be brought to the door.”

“Ah, yes. I did recall, but I had no idea that it was that late. Time flies when one is engaged in such a pleasurable activity,” here he glanced with a little smile at Mr Strange, who in turn smiled back at him. Mr Norrell went on, “Studying the fascinating history of magic, that is.”

Mr Lascelles frowned slightly. “You are looking a trifle flushed, sir. Are you feeling quite well?”

“Oh, quite well, particularly well in fact!” 

“I’m glad to hear it, sir,” Mr Lascelles replied, but his eyes were moving suspiciously between the two magicians.

Noticing this, Mr Norrell resumed, “You see, Mr Strange and I celebrated this, the first day of his studies, with a few felicitous toasts over lunch. I am afraid I might have taken just a trifle more wine than I am accustomed to.”

“I see, sir. Well, it is indeed a significant day … for all of us,” he said, looking with a stiff little smile at Mr Strange. 

Mr Norrell turned and picked up the book, handing it to Mr Strange. “While I am gone, you should begin reading this, Mr Strange. It is one of the key texts for understanding the eras of both the Aureates and the Argentines.”

“I shall do so with pleasure, sir. I have long anticipated having the chance to become acquainted with the work of Mr Pale.” He said this without a trace of irony or rancor, for any resentment against Mr Norrell that Mr Strange might have felt during that long period of not being able to read Mr Pale’s work and that of other magicians of the past had been washed away by their instant eager feeling of collegiality during their second meeting and now by Mr Norrell’s generosity in allowing him to read the longed-for book itself. Not to mention the agreeable glow of satisfaction lingering in his loins as a result of their recent intimacy.

Mr Norrell turned to Mr Lascelles. “I shall join you in the carriage in a few minutes, Mr Lascelles. I need to give Mr Strange a few further instructions.”

Mr Lascelles nodded and went out, closing the library door. At once Mr Norrell stretched up to kiss Mr Strange. “I am so sorry, Mr Strange! In my joy at our new intimacy, I had entirely forgotten about my appointment with Sir Walter. I wish we could have lingered a little more afterward.”

“That would have been very pleasant. I must say, you handled Mr Lascelles’ interruption quite masterfully. I had no idea you had such a talent for prevarication. Your excuse for your slightly flushed appearance was very clever.”

Mr Norrell frowned. “I regret having to tell such falsehoods, but I badly needed to keep the nature of your and my relationship secret. After all, what we have just done is illegal and could lead to serious consequences should news get about that we have broken that dreadful law against such activities.”

“Surely Mr Lascelles would keep your secret. He has risen to some degree of fame through his work for you.”

“True, but he might confide in Mr Drawlight, who is a notorious gossip. Moreover, I cannot help but worry that Mr Lascelles might use his knowledge to put pressure upon me in cases where we might strongly disagree on some subject.”

“Ah, a touch of blackmail, you mean.”

“I am not sure it would be serious enough to merit that name, but something of the sort, yes.”

“Quite right, then. We should be careful indeed. Well, you must go now, and I wish you well in your dealings with Sir Walter. I shall make the most of my time here alone,” Mr Strange said, gesturing at the book lying on the table.

Mr Norrell turned toward the door but paused to address him cheerfully. “Given the importance of this book, I recommend that you practice taking careful notes. I gather that you have not always recorded your magic as diligently as you ought. Do not rush through the book, for it is quite fascinating! Perhaps over dinner we can discuss the first chapter or two. I should be happy to hear your thoughts on it.”

After he departed, Mr Strange sat down at the very place on the table where he had been pounding into Mr Norrell just a short time before. He thought with an abstracted little smile about the sudden and wonderful change in his situation that had occurred only the day before. How remarkably lucky he was that Mr Norrell had been so impressed by his feat of magic—and that his and his tutor’s desires had so quickly surfaced and proven to be perfectly matched.

As he reached for a nearby stack of paper and an inkwell, he wondered briefly whether Mr Pale’s book was among the ones Mr Norrell had planned to start his studies with. He did not recall seeing it among the readings for the first few lessons and suspected that it was in fact much too advanced for his current state of knowledge. “Talented I may be,” he thought, “but I am hardly well educated in any formal way in the field of magic. No matter! I am lucky that the book to hand when Lascelles interrupted us was one I have been particularly keen to read.”

He opened Pale’s book and soon was deeply immersed in the first chapter.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Mr Strange arrived for breakfast the next morning with all his luggage, which the footmen carried up to the room which had been prepared for him. Over breakfast, he told Mr Norrell that he had written to request that more items be sent from his home in Shropshire, including the small library that he himself had managed to assemble.

Mr Norrell sighed happily. “To think that we shall be able to discuss magic morning, noon and night—and to sleep in the same bed and in general to have amorous congress whenever we wish.” His smile faded and he thought for a moment. “Well, with some limitations, of course. I can tell Mr Lascelles that he must move his desk from the library into the drawing-room and work there when you are having lessons. That is no obstacle, but Childermass will be returning from a book-buying trip tomorrow.”

“Childermass?”

“Childermass is my Man of Business. He handles all my affairs, as well as taking care of the library and buying books for me.” 

Mr Strange nodded. He had heard of Childermass, though not by name. Time and again he had been told by booksellers that Mr Norrell’s man had been there before him and that they had no books of magic left to sell him. He kept that fact to himself, however, since now that he had access to Mr Norrell’s library, the other magician’s hoarding of books was not an obstacle to his learning.

Mr Norrell went on, “He is an invaluable assistant, but under the circumstances, his presence in the library might interfere with your studies … and … with our possible intimacies.”

Mr Strange nodded somberly. “Well, if he works in the library, then I suppose we shall have to confine our moments of, um, amorous congress to your bedroom, after we retire in the evening.”

Mr Norrell looked at him doubtfully. “But … when the passion seizes us, will we really be able to wait until evening? I for one would find it difficult to resist that urgent sense of wanting to … well, you understand.”

“I fear that I would feel exactly the same difficulty.”

“I think it might be better if for part of the day we were to retire to a little study I keep upstairs. I established it for times when Childermass or Lascelles or both are working in the library and would distract me too much from my work. I use that study for my government projects, so that I can keep maps and other papers spread out for days at a time. No one is allowed to disturb me in the study … and there is a convenient day-bed there, which I ordinarily use on occasions when I feel the need of a nap … but … it could also serve …” He smiled in a guardedly mischievous way that Mr Strange found charming.

“Yes, that sounds like a good idea!”

“The only problem is that we should not have any books at hand except for the ones we take up with us or the ones that I keep there because they are relevant to my current projects for the government. Still, I suppose you, being fit and young, could go down and fetch ones that we need. I can always give you the shelf references. Childermass can help you at first, and soon you will be familiar with the locations of the books. Speaking of Childermass, he will probably be quite happy to be rid of us. He would not be allowed to speak while you are having your lessons, and that would be quite hard on him. On the other hand, he is quite often away from the house, and on those occasions we could work in the library.”

And that is how they arranged to have privacy for their lovemaking, which proved to be a habit their indulged in almost daily—quite apart from their nightly sessions in Mr Norrell’s bed. The staff soon began to remark that lately Mr Norrell’s temper had improved remarkably. They put it down to his enjoyment of instructing Mr Strange in magic, but Childermass would just give a little smile as he listened to them.

Childermass, who knew almost everything that was worth knowing, had long been of the opinion that a good buggering every now and then would do wonders for his master’s testy disposition. He was not inclined to perform that service for him, but now that Mr Strange _was_ so inclined, he was delighted to find his old opinion so clearly vindicated. Childermass also resolved to try and give the two magicians the privacy to succumb to their passions, which was no great difficulty given the many errands he had to run. If he had no errands, he could always go out and check the usual book shops for rare magical tomes. In fact, as time went by, Mr Norrell’s and Mr Strange’s little stratagems for getting away from prying eyes were far less necessary than they imagined, and they often undeservedly congratulated themselves at having “put one over on Childermass.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Over the next few weeks, the pair worked in the little study, usually in the morning when Childermass dealt with correspondence and consulted with the housekeeper on the running of the domestic activities. On those afternoons when he went out on errands, they came down to be in the library, which was much more convenient for referring to books.

Whether in the small study or the large library, the two magicians were often free to indulge their passions whenever irresistible desire struck them, as it often did. Mr Strange rapidly became used to hoisting Mr Norrell onto any piece of sturdy furniture conveniently nearby and of a height to allow Mr Strange to stand between his legs in the necessary position. This was sometimes rather awkward, but it did allow them to face each other while fanning the flames of each other’s ardor.

As they had discussed, the two made careful plans not to leave behind any evidence of such dalliance. Mr Strange purchased numerous jars of salve, which were secreted in the drawers of any piece of furniture of the right height and breadth, and he also bought a great many cheap handkerchiefs, hidden away for the purposes of cleaning away “the results,” as Mr Norrell said in his prim way. Mr Strange burned the used handkerchiefs so as not to arouse curiosity among the maids by handing them over to be laundered.

One afternoon a little over five weeks into Mr Strange’s studies, Childermass went off on another of his book-buying trips. The day after his departure, yet another episode of strong desire struck the two magicians while they were in the library. Mr Strange immediately pulled out the nearest handkerchief and jar of salve, relieved Mr Norrell of his jacket, vest, breeches and small clothes, and helped him onto a low shelving unit, padding it as usual with the small blanket. Preparing Mr Norrell as quickly as he dared, Mr Strange thrust quickly into him, making him groan loudly at the force of it. Mr Norrell put his legs around Mr Strange’s waist, beginning to ride the large cock and emitting a hoarse, blissful moan each time Mr Strange thrust into him. Both had been so eager that Mr Strange’s tongue had invaded Mr Norrell’s mouth halfway through the muffling spell that he habitually used on such occasions, and Mr Norrell, rather than prudently pushing him away and completing the spell, had begun to suck on his tongue enthusiastically. 

Rational thought had deserted them at an unfortunate moment, for this sudden succumbing to unbearable need happened to coincide with the time when Mr Lascelles was accustomed to arrive to resume his editorial and publicity duties for the Greatest Magician of the Age. Mr Drawlight often was with him, hoping to receive an invitation to dinner. Mr Norrell had become less inclined to invite the two to stay to dine since Mr Strange’s arrival, one of several reasons they had found to resent the young intruder. 

Mr Lascelles’s exile to the drawing-room for his editorial pursuits galled him no end, as this change had made it more difficult for him to keep an eye on Mr Norrell’s activities. Since he had to pass the library door on the way to the drawing-room, he habitually paused briefly in case he should be able to hear something of use to him. Up to this point he had learned nothing of interest by this procedure.

Now, even as Mr Norrell’s cries of pleasure and Mr Strange’s grunts at the effort and delight of thrusting into him became louder, Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles paused on their way to the sitting-room and stood outside the closed door, listening and staring at each other with sour looks on their faces. 

Mr Lascelles muttered, “I thought there was something of this sort going on. D—n! There seems to be only one conclusion one can draw, but take a look and see if you can confirm that they really are doing what such sounds suggest. Ascertain that it is not a result of a magic spell or some such nonsense.”

Having been wishing that he could do just what Lascelles ordered, Drawlight hastened to kneel at the door and look through the keyhole. To his delight, the narrow view afforded him by this tiny orifice happened to display the activities of the amorous pair in a nearly ideal fashion. Drawlight peered avidly at the two magicians, appreciating the sight of Mr Strange’s muscular buttocks clenching rhythmically as he thrust into Mr Norrell and the latter’s grimaces of enjoyment as his body jerked slightly each time Mr Strange’s cock pressed against his pleasure point. Mr Drawlight reluctantly withdrew his eye and turned to nod at Mr Lascelles, assuming a rueful expression as he did so—before returning his eye to the keyhole.

Mr Lascelles sneered with distaste as the moans and keening emanating from inside the library grew even louder and more desperate. He said, “Just as I suspected. I shall be in the drawing room when you grow tired of watching that disgusting spectacle.”

Mr Drawlight had felt quite embarrassed at spying at such activities with Lascelles present, and he was happy to have his friend leave him to it. Luckily for him, Mr Strange seemed to have considerable endurance and Mr Norrell an understandable longing for his partner to keep going, prolonging his bliss as long as possible. Eventually, however, they both reached the peak of ecstasy, Mr Strange grunting and gasping while Mr Norrell whimpered and thrashed, his seed spurting upward to an impressive height.

Mr Drawlight had no fear that either man would recover any time soon and come to the door, especially given that Mr Norrell was half naked. He rose and stood contemplating the distinct bulge in his breeches. Had he but known how long the pair would keep at it, he would have gladly taken care of that while watching. He sighed and slowly moved to join Mr Lascelles in the drawing room, trying not to think about what he had just witnessed and hoping that by the time he arrived his arousal would diminish enough not to be noticeable. 

Mr Lascelles was reading one of the newspapers that he invariably brought with him, in case they should contain any reference to Mr Norrell. He tossed it down and sighed. “There’s a mention here of Norrell taking Strange with him to a reception at the Admiralty last night. Note that _we_ were not invited to go along.” He sniffed bitterly. “I’m surprised Norrell could leave off having that bloody fellow fuck him long enough to attend social events.”

“Oh, come, Henry! They can hardly do it continuously. After all, they’ve left off now,” he pointed out as he poured large glasses of Mr Norrell’s expensive Madeira-wine for both of them.

Mr Lascelles responded with a sneer, “For how long, though?”

Once he has settled onto a sopha Mr Drawlight toyed briefly with a cushion and put it into his lap to conceal the remains of his erection. He said in an annoyed tone, “Well! I think it most inconsiderate of Norrell not at least to cast one of his muffling spells on the library. Who wants to hear those two rutting merrily away?”

Mr Lascelles looked at him with mild curiosity. “Oh? I thought you liked to watch.”

Mr Drawlight replied, “Naturally I do, under some circumstances.” He paused and chuckled. “Though apparently there is nothing natural about wanting to be a spectator to others’ intimacies. Quite unnatural, as my friends repeatedly teaze me.”

Mr Lascelles gave him a wan, polite smile at the feeble jest and let his friend natter on.

“I am sure I took no pleasure, however, at observing that particular pair,” he said with a careless air. “It simply flaunted in my face how much influence with Norrell we have already lost. They must both be quite besotted with each other to be fucking in broad daylight in Norrell’s precious library. You would think they would have more discretion.”

“Besotted indeed, and I suspect they have been doing it since quite soon after Strange appeared on the scene. Well, you realize that this absurd passion of Norrell’s will be disastrous for us. Already I work away from the library, and both of us see far less of him.”

Mr Drawlight nodded and said regretfully, “If I had known the old fellow wanted to be fucked, I would have obliged him from the start. Nothing in the world could have been easier. That would have assured our hold over him and perhaps forestalled his taking this upstart into his house. I had no notion that Norrell had any interest in the pleasures of the flesh, let alone that he had a taste for men.”

“Wishful thinking, I am afraid. Christopher, I doubt you could have seduced him and forestalled any thing, despite the fact that you are undeniably quite good-looking. No, there is more to this than simple lust. Did you see how Norrell looked at the fellow when he did that trick with the silly book and the mirror? I could easily believe that he had had no interest in the pleasures of the flesh until that point. No, it will be damned difficult to lessen his and Strange’s ‘friendship.’ He obviously does take Strange seriously as a magician. Maybe that’s what made Norrell desire him. Quite possibly up to that point he did not realize that he wanted to be fucked. It would not surprise me. Really, though, his motives do not concern me. The question is, how are we to break up this sordid affair and get rid of Strange?”

“Do you think that is possible? Now that they have got this far, I cannot imagine Norrell giving up his new-found pleasures and his admittedly quite handsome young swain.” He was not about to annoy his friend by remarking that both Strange and Norrell had certainly shown every sign of extraordinary pleasure while he had been watching them, and what could one do to discourage _that?_ Especially given that, from what he had been able to see through the keyhole, Strange was generously equipped to provide that pleasure.

Mr Lascelles waved one hand languidly and dismissingly. “Nonsense! Couples quarrel and part all the time. The initial fascination wanes, and they come to find faults in each other. Or they begin to suspect things about each other, often suspicions that have a real basis ... though of course they need not,” he concluded with a sly smile.

Drawlight considered this. “What sorts of faults?”

“Mostly deceptions of various sorts. Pilfering, selfishness, infidelity, lying … any number of things, great or trivial, may eat away at one lover’s trust in and attraction to the other.”

They both sat pondering what sorts of things could cool the ardor between an older man who has just experienced the joys of shared physical love for the first time and his manly young lover. Especially when, as in this case, the couple were also bound to each other by an unswerving devotion to a rare and fascinating profession like magic.

At length Mr Lascelles said, “We know he is absolutely miserly about his books. He is obviously allowing Strange access to at least some of them, given that that first day when I walked in on them Norrell was going off and leaving the fellow to read what was evidently a very important volume. Can he have given Strange free access to the entire library? That would explain when he is so willing to fuck such a dry, boring old fellow.”

Mr Drawlight shook his head and responded with a self-satisfied little smile. “Oh, I know that Strange is forbidden to read certain books.”

“How do you know that?”

“Strange leaves that set of papers lying about, that lesson-plan that Norrell made for him. It is usually on that large table where he works when they’re in the library. The plan begins by stressing that he may only read the books assigned for each lesson or ones that Norrell explicitly tells him he may read. Indeed each lesson has a short list of books that Strange must read, with shelf references. I’m sure you have noticed that all the shelves are labelled with little tags. The plan also specifies particular shelves holding books that he is strictly forbidden to read until late in his course of study—if at all.”

Mr Lascelles stared at him. “Christopher! I had no idea that you were so assiduously seeking out useful information of this sort. Usually you confine yourself to frivolous tittle-tattle. And which shelves contain the forbidden books?”

“Oh, at the time I did not take much note of the numbers, but I can easily have another look at the lesson-plan and find out.”

“Do so. Once we know, we can remove one of the larger, more conspicuous books from those shelves and hide it in Strange’s room. Norrell will be beside himself to learn that Strange has disobeyed him. But how will we know which room is Strange’s and how can we get into it to deposit the book there?”

“You may leave that to me. For a start, we can plan the ‘borrowing’ of the book for a Monday, when Childermass will be away most of the day on banking and other household business, as usual. The maids finish up their work in the bedrooms by lunch time, and if Lucas and Davey drive Norrell and Strange somewhere, they will not be around to tend to the front door. If you can find a reason to take both of them somewhere, I should have access to the bedrooms, and Strange’s will obviously be the only one occupied apart from Norrell’s. Either that, or one afternoon I might pretend to leave and then return for dinner, when in actuality I shall be upstairs placing the book in Strange’s room and then hiding in a vacant one until dinner-time.”

“Well, I cannot deny your talent for deception, so let us assume that we shall handle the ruse in one fashion or the other.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr Lascelles and Mr Drawlight successfully implement their scheme, stealing a book from the "forbidden" section of Mr Norrell's library and hiding it in Mr Strange's room. Mr Norrell is upset and banishes Mr Strange from his bedroom. The two are miserable sleeping apart.

Eight days afer Mr Lascelles and Mr Drawlight had formulated their scheme to pilfer a book from the “forbidden” shelf in the library and secrete it in Mr Strange’s room, Mr Norrell had an appointment to dine with high government officials at the Admiralty. It was a lunch in celebration of a recent, and rare, victory over the French. Mr Norrell considered this occasion a great annoyance, but as he was largely credited with having brought about Napoleon’s defeat, he could hardly refuse to attend. Mr Lascelles came in his carriage to pick Mr Norrell up and convey him to the event.

A short time later, Mr Drawlight, who had been lurking around the corner, appeared at Hanover-square, strolling along as if nothing in the world could please him better than the rather indifferent, breezy weather that was threatening rain. His ring at the door was answered by Lucy, who informed him that neither Mr Norrell nor Mr Lascelles was there. Did he wish to see Mr Strange?

Mr Drawlight thought quickly. The ideal would be for Strange not to realize that he was in the house. “No, no, I should not wish to interrupt his studies. It is no matter. I shall sit in the drawing room and read until they return. If I might have a pot of tea and a bite to eat … anything will do …”

The servants were used to Mr Drawlight loitering about in the house and consuming Mr Norrell’s food and drink, so Lucy arranged for an early lunch to be served to him in the sitting-room.

Knowing the household routine well, Mr Drawlight waited until he heard the gong at the usual time, summoning Strange to lunch. He lingered a further ten minutes and went down to the library. Having chosen in advance a large volume that would be conspicuous by its absence, he crossed quickly to the “forbidden” section, plucked it from the center of the middle shelf, and hurried out. To his relief, he met no one in the corridor where the bedrooms were located. He soon discovered one that was obviously Mr Strange’s and secreted the book in a drawer under a pile of smallclothes.

He was back in the drawing-room well before Lucy came to clear the dishes.

“Well,” he said to her, standing up, “they are taking their time, and I have a pressing errand to do. If Mr Norrell inquires after me, you may tell him that I shall return in time for dinner.”

Lucy said she would and looked after him as he departed with a little sneer. None of the servants much liked Mr Drawlight, but they were used to his coming and going at mealtimes, and if Mr Norrell wished to indulge him, that was his privilege. With a sniff she went out with the tray.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was nearly mid-afternoon before Mr Norrell and Mr Lascelles returned. The latter came into the library and glanced over at the “forbidden” bookshelf. There was a gap exactly where he and Mr Drawlight had planned it. He sat down, pretending to read a newspaper but in fact anticipating the pleasure of witnessing the moment when Mr Norrell would discover his loss and accuse Mr Strange of borrowing the volume against his orders.

Mr Strange looked up from his work at the central table, inquiring of his tutor, “Did you have a pleasant time at the Admiralty, sir?”

“Oh, pleasant enough. The food is always reasonably edible if I am selective in what I take, and I must admit that the speeches were very gratifying after all the work I have put into the cause.” He yawned. “I must admit, though, that the wine and food has left me unusually drowsy. I believe I shall lie down on the sopha and have a brief nap. Please, carry on with your reading—and do not let me sleep more than an hour.”

Mr Strange nodded and went back to his work as Mr Norrell settled down for his nap. Mr Lascelles shifted impatiently. He had assumed that Mr Norrell would walk into the room, take a look around, and immediately notice the absence of the missing book. Mr Drawlight had once remarked that Mr Norrell probably knew if any single volume in the library had been moved by half an inch. Apparently he was exaggerating, as usual. One of Drawlight’s most annoying faults.

The hour went by, and Mr Strange duly shook his tutor’s shoulder gently to wake him. 

“Ah, thank you, Mr Strange. I feel much better. Do show me how you are getting on with your lesson.”

To Mr Lascelles’ further annoyance, the two sat beside each other at the table and spent another hour or so going discussing Mr Strange’s notes. Just as he was beginning to think that Mr Norrell was oblivious to everything around him, the man stood up to fetch a book to show Mr Strange. Not a book on the “forbidden” shelves, to be sure, but one near enough to them that his eye was caught by the gap, and he stared in horror at it.

Mr Strange watched Mr Norrell curiously as he went to stand before the gap and then to look around the area. “I have not consulted that book for months! How …?” he muttered. 

“Mr Norrell, is something wrong?” Mr Strange asked.

“Wrong indeed! Where is William Pantler’s _Three Perfectible States of Being_?” Mr Norrell replied anxiously, as he walked over to survey the surface of the large table where Mr Strange worked. It was covered with books, but none was Mr Pantler’s magnum opus. “Did you by any chance take it down to consult?”

Mr Strange looked startled and a trifle guilty. He had in fact taken advantage of Mr Norrell’s absence to visit those shelves—not to take any volumes down to read, but simply out of curiosity to look at some of the titles. He did not believe that he had violated the letter of Mr Norrell stricture, but he perhaps should not have read even the titles.

“No, of course not, sir! I realize that those shelves contain the books that I am not yet far enough advanced to read—if indeed I shall ever be,” he added with a feeble and self-deprecating little chuckle.

Mr Lascelles had feigned to continue reading, but at this point he looked up. “Sir, is there something wrong?”

Mr Norrell was wringing his hands. “Very much so, Mr Lascelles. An important book is missing.” He pointed at the gap in the shelf.

Mr Strange and Mr Lascelles both walked over to examine the empty space. “What did the book look like, sir?” the latter asked.

“Bound in red calf, and thick, with the title and author written horizontally across the spine in brown. There is a rather fanciful depiction of a Black Angel below.”

The three began to look around the library, but Mr Norrell was not one to leave his books lying about when he was not using them—especially not now that they might get in the way of him and Mr Strange during one of their fits of passion. Apart from a small group relating to his current work carefully arranged on an upright reading desk, there were only the books for Mr Strange’s lessons lying on the table.

Mr Strange walked to the far corner of the room and examined Childermass’ small desk, but there were no books there at all.

While he did this, Mr Lascelles gestured to Mr Norrell to follow him out of the library.

After closing the door, Mr Norrell turned inquiringly to Mr Lascelles. 

“Sir, we should search Mr Strange’s room.”

Mr Norrell looked shocked. “There is no need, surely! Mr Strange knows better than to take a book from that section of the library.”

“Why that section in particular?”

“I have strictly forbidden him to look into any of the books in that particular rank of shelves. They are, in my opinion, dangerous, especially to a beginning magician.”

“I see. Well, sir, you may believe that he would obey you, but perhaps by forbidding him to read those particular books, you inflamed his curiosity. After all, you know very little of his character after such a short acquaintance. He came with no particular reputation or recommendation.”

Mr Norrell looked as if he were about to protest this claim, but he shook his head and said quietly, “Fine, let us go and search his room. That will prove that he would not do such a thing.”

“I hope so, sir.”

Mr Norrell opened the library door and said, “Mr Strange, Mr Lascelles and I will check the drawing-room and my upstairs study, on the off-chance that the book somehow strayed there. In the meantime, I would appreciate your continuing to search here.”

Mr Norrell and Mr Lascelles went directly to Mr Strange’s bedroom. It gave the appearance of being lived in, since Mr Strange bathed and dressed there. He and Mr Norrell did not want the servants to suspect that the two magicians were sleeping together.

Mr Lascelles looked in various places where he knew the book had not been hidden, for he wanted Mr Norrell to be the one who found it. Soon he was relieved when Mr Norrell opened a dresser drawer and found the book where Mr Drawlight had left it.

Mr Norrell stood for a long time, staring at the book in his hand. Mr Lascelles stood waiting with a sympathetic expression, not making any accusation but letting Mr Norrell draw his own conclusions.

“I cannot believe it,” Mr Norrell finally said sorrowfully.

“As I said, sir, telling him that he could not read such books probably inspired in him a desire to do so. Besides, he resented your having kept him from buying books of magic back in the time before you two met. He might have felt justified in breaking your rule.”

“But for him to deceive me so! I would never have imagined such a thing.”

“I understand, sir. It is a grave disappointment for you. Such a promising young man, and yet apparently one not worthy of your trust. You have been so generous to him, and now he repays you thus.”

Mr Lascelles breathed an inward sigh of relief as he saw tears in Mr Norrell’s eyes. 

The two went back down to the library. Mr Strange had given up the search, since it was quite apparent that the book was not there.

Mr Norrell silently held up the volume.

Mr Strange grinned with relief. “You found it! Excellent, sir! Where was it?”

Mr Lascelles stepped slightly forward. “You know perfectly well. Exactly where you hid it, in one of the drawers in your bedroom.”

Mr Strange’s grin vanished. “But that is … that is impossible! I never touched that book, let alone took it away and hid it.”

Mr Norrell’s sad, disappointed look at him horrified Mr Strange. “Surely, Gil—that is, Mr Norrell, you do not believe I would do such a thing!”

Mr Norrell suddenly burst out, “What else am I to believe, Mr Strange? It was in your room, and hidden at that. You resented my having bought the books you sought to attain. You have long had a great desire to read my books, apparently even those that I have rightly held back for later in your studies.” 

He stopped, as at this point Mr Drawlight made his appearance and looked around inquiringly at the tense expressions of the three men in the library. He had timed his return well, for before any one could greet him—not that they seemed inclined to—the dinner gong rang out.

The four retired to a grim meal. Mr Norrell barely touched his food and was unable to meet Mr Strange’s eyes. Mr Strange in turn was miserable at the idea that the other magician had so little trust in him. He longed to be alone with Mr Norrell and try discuss rationally the possible ways in which the book could have got into his bedroom, but there was no opportunity. Mr Lascelles maintained his usual cool reserve, but Mr Drawlight poured forth his accustomed flood of gossip and humour and kept the conversation going all on his own.

As the dinner ended, Mr Norrell abruptly announced that he had a dreadful headache and was going to bed. He summoned Lucas and bid farewell to Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles, who departed immediately. Mr Strange was unable to say anything before Mr Norrell and Lucas went upstairs. He sat brooding in the library, trying to fathom how this whole dreadful event had come about. When he finally went up to bed, he softy tried Mr Norrell’s door and found that it was locked.

He retired to his own room and slept in the bed there for the first time. That is, he tried to sleep, but the unfairness of Mr Norrell’s accusation and the disastrous split with the Greatest Magician of the Age kept him awake and miserable for much the night. He tried not to imagine what it would be like returning to Shropshire with his tail between his legs—to give up magic in disgrace. Finally exhaustion sent him into a light sleep filled with ominous dreams.

Mr Norrell fared little better. His headache was real enough, but it was not the greatest thing plaguing him. He had slept alone for most of his life, and yet now his longing for Mr Strange to hold him was like a physical pain. He could not bear the idea of life without the younger magician. How could he face such a future? He had to make a decision, and yet his mind was in such a state of turmoil that he could not think at all. Eventually he, too, fell into an uneasy sleep. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next morning the two arrived at the dining room for breakfast, greeting each other uncertainly and in muted tones.

Once the food had been served, Mr Strange forged ahead as he had planned while shaving that morning. “Mr Norrell, I did not take that book, but there must be some rational explanation as to how it got into my room. Can we not solve this mystery together?”

Mr Norrell shook his head with a hint of a smile. “There is no mystery here, Mr Strange. How else could the book have got there except …?” He shrugged.

Mr Strange was determined not to allow the question to be dropped. “How long has Childermass been with you? He would seem to have had the greatest opportunity to move the book. Do you trust him entirely?”

Mr Norrell replied firmly, “Yes, I do trust him. He has been my Man of Business for nearly twenty years now, since he was a very young man. I have always found him loyal and trustworthy. Besides, it cannot have been Childermass. He was out on errands all day when the book was moved and—“

“Ah, but are you certain that the book was still in its place when he left the house?”

“Yes. I returned some books to their shelves in the morning, one or two of them in that area. I am certain that I would have noticed its absence. Beyond that, though, I cannot fathom what motive he could have. He knows that I do not like his reading books of magic, at least, not beyond the simplest, least dangerous ones. I am aware that he occasionally hazards a look inside one when I am not present. 

“If, however, Childermass was curious about a book he knew I considered dangerous, why would he put it in your room? He could simply read it during those periods when he is working alone in the library. Certainly he would have no reason to try and cast suspicion onto you. He rather likes you, I think, or at least finds it advantageous to have you about.” He chuckled. “He remarked just the other day that my temper has noticeably improved since you have become my pupil, and I do not doubt that he is right.”

In other circumstances, Mr Strange might have been interested in Childermass’ thoughts and activities, but at the moment he was still pondering the mystery of the book hidden in his room. “Might Mr Drawlight or Mr Lascelles, or both, have put the book there, sir? As a little jest, perhaps.” Mr Strange did not actually believe that they would do such a thing in jest. Such an action would probably have a more sinister motive, but he did not like to criticize Mr Norrell’s friends, even if he did find them rather unpleasant at times.

“I do not see how they would have known enough about the books to choose one that I had forbidden you to read. They know nothing of magic. Besides, I don’t think Mr Lascelles was in the house long enough to do such a thing before he and I left for the Admiralty, and Mr Drawlight did not arrive until after we found the book in your room. That is, he didn’t visit while I was gone, did he?”

Mr Strange shook his head.

Mr Norrell went on, “And what motive could they have in wishing to implicate you?”

Mr Strange frowned doubtfully, since he assumed that the serving staff were the only others with access to the household, and they knew even less about magic than did Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles. Surely none of them wished him ill, and even if one did, he could hardly have managed the deception. He was also not entirely convinced that Mr Norrell would have necessarily noticed if the book had indeed been already gone the previous morning. He decided to bide his time and look for any indications that Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles disliked him for some reason. If Childermass, Drawlight, Lascelles and the servants were eliminated, who could possibly have moved the book? But as long as Mr Norrell assumed that his pupil had taken it, he would not consider the possible guilt of these others.

He decided to make one further attempt to convince his tutor of his innocence.

“But Mr Norrell, once again I assure you, I did not borrow that book! I have no idea how it got into that drawer, but … well, consider this. I have been delighted with your generosity in sharing some of your books with me. I have read quite a few by now, but I have not even begun to exhaust the supply of books that you do permit me to see. Why should I be so eager to go beyond them and wander into the unknown dangers of the forbidden shelves?”

Mr Norrell did not answer him immediately but sat staring down at his untouched bowl of gruel. Finally he looked up and smiled. “Mr Strange, you need not keep denying that you borrowed a forbidden book. Believe me, I am not angry! Oh, I admit I was quite upset when I first noticed its absence and it was found in your room. But upon thinking the matter over, I have come to realize that it really was not as important a matter as I initially thought. Instead I am full of admiration for your profound devotion to magic. You were obviously unable to resist exploring it further, even if it meant looking into books that I had expressly forbidden you to read at this early stage of your studies. I was probably wrong to keep them from you.”

Mr Norrell rose and came around the table to pat Mr Strange’s shoulder reassuringly. As the younger man seemed about to speak again, he said, “No, please, do not continue to prevaricate. Let me propose this. If ever you should again be tempted by one of the books in that section, simply tell me. I promise that, no matter what the book, I shall sit down with you, and we shall read it together and discuss it as we go. I shall point out what I consider its dangers and explain what the consequences of some of the magic discussed within might have. You would hardly be tempted to use such magic once I had made you aware of such things.” 

He shrugged. “Now that I come to consider the situation, it occurs to me that a magician must know what magic _not_ to attempt and he must know how to choose useful, respectable magic. I confess, I probably have been underestimating your ability to tell the difference—under my guidance, of course.” He hesitated. “There are some books that I myself have never dared to look into. From references to them in other writings, it is clear that such books contain frightening dark magic. None of those books is here, I should tell you. I keep them locked in a closet at Hurtfew, more to keep them from falling into the wrong hands than with the intention of someday reading them myself. But the books here would all be possible for you to read, some with supervision and perhaps some without.”

Mr Strange was about to try yet again to convince Mr Norrell of the truth about the presence of the forbidden book in his room. He stopped himself, however, realizing that if he accepted Mr Norrell’s current offer, he could see essentially any book in the library, and possibly some of those still at Hurtfew—apart from the ones imprisoned in the “closet of evil books,” as he always henceforth thought of it. Indeed, it was pleasant to think that Mr Norrell admired him for his audacity, even if that admiration stemmed from his supposed borrowing of a forbidden book.

He assumed a properly contrite look as he rose and replied, choosing his words carefully, for he did not want to lie by confessing to an offense he had not committed. “It is very kind of you to take that forgiving attitude and make such an offer, sir. I shall certainly abide by the terms you offer. I must say, I look forward to us being able to read together in that way. I’m sure I shall learn a great deal from it.”

Mr Norrell nodded. “Excellent, Mr Strange. The true magician is always curious, for magic is an endlessly fascinating subject. I am actually glad that this little incident occurred, for it opens up new possibilities for your studies. I suppose that when I placed those strictures on your access to books, I had not yet realized how brilliant a budding magician you are. Now I have more confidence in you and can remove those strictures—in a limited way, of course. I only ask that you promise me that you will never look at those books without requesting my help.”

“I promise gladly, sir! And thank you for your kind words about my abilities.”

The two kissed lingeringly and stood hugging for a time. As they drew apart, Mr Strange said, “I fear that our breakfasts have become quite cold. A pity, since I have suddenly developed a considerable appetite.”

“Well, I would not mind a cold breakfast. I am so happy to have resolved this situation that I, too, am unexpectedly quite hungry.”

And so they ate cold breakfasts and talked cheerfully all the while.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hunger was not the only appetite that had been neglected during their misunderstanding. Once in the library, the pair tried to concentrate on Mr Strange’s lesson, but soon they gave it up and stared longingly at each other.

Mr Strange said, “I missed you very much last night, sir. I barely slept at all.”

Mr Norrell sighed. “Oh, Mr Strange … Jonathan … I missed you a great deal, especially having you hold me so closely while we slumber. I slept very little as well. I realized that no book is as important to me as you are.”

Now that the mysterious affair was cleared up, at least as far as Mr Norrell was concerned, the pair’s thoughts inevitably strayed to how they might pleasantly reassure each other that their intimate friendship had not suffered. They moved together so that they might put their arms around each other and began gently kissing and caressing.

Soon their arousal grew, and their kisses became deeper and their caresses more intimate. 

Finally they drew back and Mr Strange grinned. “Gilbert, I have not mentioned it up to now, since you are so fond of being buggered, but there is another, and simpler, form of amorous congress that we could perform which would not involve my penetrating you. It would have the advantage of lending some variety to our lovemaking—not that I have any complaints about the way we have pleasured each other up to now. Still, trying it might be an appropriate celebration of our reconciliation.”

Mr Norrell perked up considerably at hearing this. “Really? I can’t imagine how else one could do such an act …” His smile faded. “That is, unless we were to exchange positions, and I should … enter you. But I must admit, I would not particularly care to do so. I so enjoy _your_ entering _me_ when we take such pleasure together.”

“I am not suggesting such a thing. I very much enjoy entering you, Gilbert, and I would not propose that we reverse positions, especially not now, upon having your strong preference in the matter confirmed. What I am talking about is an entirely different sort of act. It involves putting that,” and here he gestured toward Mr Norrell’s crotch, “into one’s mouth and sucking on it.”

Mr Norrell registered surprise at first and then assumed the dubious expression that by now he generally wore when he suspected that Mr Strange was teazing him. “Really, Jonathan, that sounds very odd. Why in the world would any one wish to perform such an act upon another person? Suppose that the person being … uh … treated in this fashion were to reach his culmination in the mouth of the person performing the, um, act, whatever it is called?”

Mr Strange chuckled. “Actually, that quite often happens. Not invariably, since some people do not enjoy receiving the ‘results’ in their mouth, but more often than not, I would imagine, the one performing the sucking does so and indeed often swallows it quite willingly.”

Mr Norrell looked at him, aghast. “ _Swallows_ it?”

Mr Strange thought for a moment before replying, “Yes, indeed. Really, it is a delightful way of pleasing your partner. I am sure you would enjoy it. And the preparation and clean-up procedures are so much easier, precisely because one can simply swallow the ‘result.’ No need at all for using a lubricant or cleaning up afterward with napkins or handkerchiefs that then need to be disposed of.”

Mr Norrell continued to look doubtful and finally said, “I find all this quite implausible.”

“Yes. Well, obviously you are having difficulties imagining what I am suggesting, so why don’t you simply let me demonstrate? I assure you, I would enjoy giving you pleasure in this fashion.”

“Oh. Well, if you must, Jonathan, I suppose that I would not object.”

“No, I doubt that you would … or will,” muttered Mr Strange, a trifle frustrated by this point. He had little hope that he could persuade the other magician to reciprocate and suck his cock, but if he could convince Mr Norrell that such an act was not at all disagreeable to the one performing it, he could have made some progress toward adding this common act of physical love to their very limited repertoire of lovemaking.

Mr Strange slid down onto his knees and cupped Mr Norrell’s knees with his hands, gently pulling them wide and proceeding to undo the buttons of the man’s breeches-front. Taking out Mr Norrell’s half-erect member, he stroked it gently and pulled it up against his abdomen, licking and kissing it.

Mr Norrell gasped and watched Mr Strange’s tongue slithering around his shaft, clearing finding this activity far more plausible than he so recently had. Soon his cock was fully hard, and Mr Strange sucked at his balls before moving up and finally taking the tip into his mouth. 

Mr Norrell was panting by now, his eyes sliding shut briefly before he struggled to open them and continue to watch Mr Strange as he alternately drew up off the shaft and sank back down onto it, sucking harder and harder as Mr Norrell began to whimper and writhe. At last, with a little shrill cry, he sent his seed spurting into Mr Strange’s mouth. The latter gulped it down easily and slowly withdrew, gently licking the shrinking member.

His eyes closed, Mr Norrell struggled to catch his breath. Mr Strange watched him fondly, taking his lover’s hands in his own and stroking them. At last Mr Norrell opened his eyes and said, “Oh … Jonathan … that was marvelous! But did you really not mind … swallowing … that?”

“Not really. The taste of ‘that’ is not exactly pleasant, but I am used to it.”

“But how? How did you learn how to do such things? It never occurred to me to ask, but …”

Mr Strange grinned. “You were never away at a boys’ school or university, were you?”

“No. I was educated entirely by tutors at home.”

“Ah, well, then you have no idea how boys and young men sometimes behave amongst themselves, with no access to female society, particularly of the more intimate sort. With their desires at their height and no other outlet, they turn to each other. I had no problem finding partners for such activities.”

Mr Norrell smiled and ran his fingers through Mr Strange’s curly hair. “No, I would imagine that you did not. You are so very handsome, Jonathan!”

Mr Strange, still on his knees, stretched up to kiss Mr Norrell gently, pulling up the panel on his breeches and fastening it.

Mr Norrell sat up slightly. “Oh, but I suppose you would like to me to do the same for you.”

“Well … that would be splendid, but if you have any hesitations at all about doing such a thing, we could wait until—”

“No! You gave me such pleasure, despite my doubts. I want to try it. You will be patient with my inexperience, I know.”

“Of course, Gilbert.”

The two switched places, and Mr Strange lowered his breeches-front and sat back, ready to give any guidance needed.

Mr Norrell needed none, though he went forward slowly and carefully, kissing up and down the shaft, sucking on the ball-sac, as Mr Strange had done. All of this excited Mr Strange no end, since he had worried that the other magician would be repelled by the process. 

Eventually Mr Norrell stopped licking and looked up. “Am I doing this right?”

Mr Strange nodded firmly. “Absolutely! Just go on doing what you’re doing … only, by now, just a little faster and harder.”

Mr Norrell obeyed, and as he explored the cock, gave a small moan. Mr Strange grinned, realizing that he need not worry at all that Mr Norrell was repelled. 

Mr Norrell eventually tried to take the tip in to his mouth. It was too large for him to get far, but he sucked and licked it with his eyes closed, lost in the enjoyment of it.

Mr Strange watched him, dumbstruck at how much Mr Norrell delighted in pleasuring him. Soon he longed to finish—but he simply could not bring himself to hurry his lover along. He stroked Mr Norrell’s hair, murmuring encouragement and affection until he simply could not bear to wait any longer. He showed Mr Norrell how to stroke his shaft as he sucked the tip. Feeling his ecstasy build, Mr Strange groaned out a warning that he was about to come. Mr Norrell either did not understand his signal or wanted the full experience of this new amorous act. Mr Strange flooded Mr Norrell’s mouth with his seed as Mr Norrell struggled to swallow it. He managed some, but most dribbled down Mr Strange’s shaft and drooled down Mr Norrell’s chin. Mr Strange quickly seized a handkerchief and wiped both.

He pulled Mr Norrell up to lie against his body and asked anxiously, “Did you enjoy that? You seemed to, but perhaps at the end it was too much …”

Mr Norrell was still drooling a bit from the seed in his mouth. He wiped his mouth with his hand and took Mr Strange’s handkerchief to clean it. “No … no, I did enjoy it, and, well, I think I will do better next time.”

Mr Strange felt overcome with affection for him. “You did wonderfully this time! You need not worry. It felt marvelous, and your obvious enjoyment of the whole thing delighted me no end.” He kissed Mr Norrell deeply, not worrying at the fact that he could still taste the lingering presence of his own seed in his lover’s mouth. The kiss lasted a long time before Mr Norrell pulled back to say, “You were right. This is a marvelous way to have amorous congress. We might try it in the evening as well. Already I must admit I feel drowsy as a result of it.”

“Well, neither of us slept much last night. I think we would be justified in taking a little nap. After all, you missed having me hold you, and I very much want to make up for that.”

So they moved to the sopha, covered themselves with the little lap blanket that was by now looking a little the worse for wear, cuddled for a while, and fell asleep with Mr Strange holding Mr Norrell very close.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next afternoon, Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles arrived , bearing the new issue of _The Friends of English Magic_ straight from the press. 

As Mr Lascelles and Mr Drawlight approached the front door, Mr Lascelles held up the magazine and remarked, “It will be just as well to show him how valuable we are to him. We may well be just three at dinner this evening. I expect by now Mr Strange has been sent packing.”

Upon entering the library, however, they were disagreeably surprised to discover Mr Norrell and Mr Strange seated side by side at the big central table, with the very book that they had planted in Mr Strange’s room now open on the table before them. Mr Strange was nodding thoughtfully and making a note as Mr Norrell pointed to a passage and said something to him.

Drawlight and Lascelles were strictly forbidden to speak without permission during Mr Strange’s lessons, so after exchanging surprised and worried looks they silently parted, to wait until the lesson was over or reached a convenient pausing point. Mr Lascelles laid the copy of _The Friends_ on Mr Norrell’s desk and wore a sour look as he sat down to await his turn with the great magician. Mr Drawlight, who never showed signs of impatience when anticipating a free meal, sat on the comfortable sopha before the fire, where he consoled himself as usual by reading a fashionable magazine which he had brought with him.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Later, during after-dinner drinks in the drawing-room, Mr Norrell and Mr Lascelles began discussing plans for the next issue of their journal. Mr Drawlight sat down beside Mr Strange before the fire, bursting with curiosity and said softly and with a solicitous little frown, “Mr Strange, I gather that Mr Norrell was quite angry about your clandestine borrowing of one of his books. I hope he did not scold or punish you too greatly.” In truth Mr Drawlight had been hoping that the friendly situation in which he and Mr Lascelles had found the two magicians was the result of a thorough berating of Mr Strange by Mr Norrell and the abject apology by Mr Strange that followed.

Mr Strange laughed. “No, indeed. To my surprise and of course delight, Mr Norrell was favorably impressed by my curiosity and resulting overwhelming desire to learn about magic from one of the forbidden books. Not that I in truth would ever look into one of those books without permission, let alone spirit it off to my room, but I could not make Mr Norrell believe that I had not taken it. He now has decided to let me read any book I wish, under his strict supervision, naturally.” He sat with what Mr Drawlight considered a maddeningly smug smile on his face as he concluded, “The happy result is that I am getting even more of Mr Norrell’s close supervision and fascinating commentary than I had previously been privileged to have. He is so busy with his commitments to work for the government, and yet he considers my education equally worthy of his time.”

“How very beneficial for you, to be sure!” Mr Drawlight replied with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

It naturally occurred to Mr Strange to consider again whether Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles might have moved the book. He suspected that they found him as annoying as he found them. Perhaps they had gone so far as to try and make Mr Norrell break with his pupil. Well, they had failed miserably. Indeed, he thought with mild amusement, the outcome of their malicious jape, if that is what it was, had been so positive for him that they surely would not try any thing of the sort thereafter.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Soon Mr Strange was so bored that he began yawning somewhat ostentatiously. Mr Norrell caught the contagion, and soon he was yawning as well. The two guests took the hint gladly and departed, since they wished to have a private talk in Mr Lascelles’ carriage.

After relating what Mr Strange had told him, Mr Drawlight said gloomily, “The result of our scheme has been to drive the two even closer together. My consolation is that our little trick did not cost much time and no expense at all.”

Mr Lascelles clenched his teeth and shook his head in disgust. “This is even more serious than I thought. It is bad enough that Mr Norrell is willing, as he is with no other, to share some of his books with Mr Strange. It is quite appalling that he should so easily forgive the fellow for sneaking one of the books out of the library—and then allow him to see others from the forbidden shelves! It just goes to show how enthralled he is by the young wretch. This obviously requires something a bit more elaborate.”

“What do you have in mind, Henry?”

“I do not know yet. We must keep an eye on the two and see how their ‘friendship’ develops. I am sure that I shall think of something, given enough time.”


	3. Chapter 3

Late October 1809

The morning after Mr Norrell had forgiven Mr Strange for taking a forbidden book to his room, the two magicians lay peacefully embracing in bed. The evening before, after retiring for the night, they had repeated the new oral exchange of pleasure that initially had discomfited Mr Norrell so greatly. Their second attempt was equally pleasurable.

After a long silence, Mr Strange declared, “I was impressed to learn yesterday that no book is as important to you as I am.”

Mr Norrell looked up at him fondly and nodded his confirmation of that rash statement.

Mr Strange stared speculatively into space and said, “I wonder if I might be more important to you than your entire library.”

Mr Norrell was startled, realizing that he would have to make a declaration on this idea one way or the other. He hesitated and then he instead blurted out, “I love you, Jonathan!”

Surprised and delighted, Mr Strange abandoned his teazing about the books and grinned. “I am so glad to hear you say that, Gilbert! I love you as well. I never would have dared to declare such a thing, since it would have been an impertinent thing for a pupil to say to his master.”

“You are hardly a young student, Jonathan. You are a full-grown man. If you _had_ been a young student, I should never have shared physical pleasure with you or declared my love for you.”

Mr Strange nodded in acknowledgement of that statement. “I cannot imagine ever leaving you, of ever going off on my own. I hope once I learn enough, I can eventually become your partner—perhaps nearly your equal as a magician, if I apply myself sufficiently.”

Mr Norrell stroked his cheek. “Of course, Jonathan. I shall continue to teach you as best I can, and eventually you undoubtedly will become my equal as a magician. It will take years of work, and yet it is work that we shall do _together._ It will be a paradise, working here with you, and sleeping here together."

The two fell silent and cuddled for a few more minutes before rising. They bathed, had breakfast together, and resumed those studies that eventually might make Mr Strange the Second Greatest Magician of the Age.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

December 1809

Nearly two months passed. During this time, Mr Strange progressed marvelously in his magical education. Mr Lascelles and Mr Drawlight watched for any thing that might give them the opportunity to disgrace Mr Strange in the eyes of Mr Norrell, but nothing of the sort occurred.

Indeed, their hopes seemed to be less likely of accomplishment when one afternoon in December Mr Norrell happened to be taking tea alone with Mr Drawlight in the library, Mr Lascelles and even Mr Strange being absent on other business.

Mr Drawlight remarked, “You have been devoting a great deal of time these past months to your lessons with Mr Strange. Do you not find that they interfere to some extent with your vitally important work for the War Office and the Admiralty? Such tasks as you perform for them are, after all, so crucial for the well being of the nation.”

Mr Norrell put down his cup and remarked in a more animated fashion than he usually used when speaking with Mr Drawlight (or Mr Lascelles, for that matter), “Oh, but Mr Strange is going to help me with that. As you say, my work for the nation in this time of war is exceedingly important, and it would be very wrong of me to deprive the country of Mr Strange’s talents. Mr Strange and I went down to the Admiralty last Thursday to wait upon Lord Mulgrave. I believe that Lord Mulgrave was none too pleased at first to see that I had brought Mr Strange …”

“This is because his lordship is accustomed to your superior magic!” Mr Drawlight interrupted. “I dare say he thinks that a mere _amateur_ \--however talented—has no business meddling with Admiralty matters.”

“… but when his lordship heard Mr Strange’s ideas for defeating the French by magic he turned to me with a great smile upon his face and said, ‘You and I, Mr Norrell, had grown stale. We wanted new blood to stir us up, did we not?’”

Mr Drawlight looked at him aghast. “Lord Mulgrave said _that_? To _you_? That was abominably rude of him. I hope, sir, that you gave him one of your looks!”

What look Mr Drawlight conceived of Mr Norrell presenting to Lord Mulgrave is unclear. Mr Norrell was capable of stern looks in certain limited circumstances, but seldom if ever to those high officials on whom his work for the nation depended—unless perhaps one of them had had the temerity to enter his library and lay rough hands upon his books. Such a breach of etiquette was highly unlikely, and given that they had always treated him with the greatest respect, his attitude had always been his usual deferential politeness. Nevertheless, Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles had always maintained a fiction that Mr Norrell was indeed a powerful individual who could stand up to his superiors with a defiant air.

“What?” Mr Norrell was engrossed in his own tale and had no attention to spare for whatever Mr Drawlight might be saying. “ʽOh!’ I said to him—I said, ‘I am quite of your mind, my lord. But only wait until you have heard the rest of what Mr Strange had to say. You have not heard the half of it!’”

Later, when Mr Lascelles returned to Hanover-square, Mr Drawlight drew him aside and reported this conversation.

Mr Lascelles frowned and sighed in perplexity. Finally he said, “I would not have expected Mr Norrell to be so accepting of this welcoming attitude to Mr Strange on the part of these officials.”

“Nor would I, Henry, I assure you. Mr Norrell had always professed to be the _sole_ magician in England. It is one thing for him to accept this beautiful young man as a subordinate, a pupil with whom he can satisfy his lust as he wishes. But to present him so soon to the government officials as a serious partner? That seems extraordinary, does it not?”

“More than extraordinary! If at this early stage of Strange’s education Norrell already envisions him as a second magician, then our influence over him will inevitably fade. I certainly do not intend to remain as a mere editor of his journal and a journalist producing occasional stories to boost his fame with the public. I assume your ambition will not tolerate Strange as such a prominent and powerful figure.”

“Certainly not, Henry!”

“Fine. Well, we must act as soon possible before these officials push Norrell to promote Strange into a position of power that eclipses our own.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++

One evening shortly thereafter Mr Lascelles and Mr Drawlight were present at Hanover-square for dinner with the two magicians.

Mr Norrell said happily, “Mr Strange performed a remarkable feat of magic for Mr Canning in regard to the war this afternoon. The two of you may remember that in January of last year he requested that I send a series of nightmares to Napoleon in order to debilitate him and render him incapable of carrying on his command of his forces effectively. Unfortunately my efforts, though carried on for over a year, had no adverse effect whatever upon him. We had to give the effort up.”

Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles nodded. They well remembered this lengthy and unsuccessful endeavour of Mr Norrell for George Canning, the Foreign Secretary.

“Well, I must admit that I apparently have no great capacity for conjuring up horrors. Things that would terrify me presumably are as nothing to hardened soldiers. But Mr Canning thought that perhaps Mr Strange would be more imaginative in that area. I then taught Mr Strange the basic magic required for sending such nightmares, which is relatively simple. He has begun doing so. Not to Napoleon, I should add, but to his ally, Emperor Alexander of Russia. Mr Canning listened to Mr Strange’s descriptions of these nightmares and is quite hopeful of good results.”

During all this, Mr Strange played with his silverware with a slight smile on his face—as modest an expression as he could possibly assume, given Mr Norrell’s praise.

Both Mr Lascelles and Mr Drawlight stifled their alarm at hearing all this, and there was a general toast to Mr Strange’s success in this endeavour. Mr Lascelles and Mr Drawlight sought in their minds a way to turn the conversation away from Mr Strange’s success during his introduction to the government officials who had previously been so entirely dependent upon Mr Norrell for magical contributions to the war effort.

Mr Norrell, however, was so fervent that he went on, “Mr Strange shows a great aptitude for spells and considerable talent for adapting them to specific circumstances. A few days after our interview with Lord Mulgrave, Sir Walter told me that the news went round the governmental departments, and all the officials highly anticipate the time when he can assist me further in my work for them.”

Mr Drawlight remarked casually, “Indeed, I heard someone say only yesterday that soon Mr Strange will be your equal, sir.”

He had intended nothing in saying this but to feign an enthusiasm that he did not feel. Nonetheless, Mr Norrell’s smile disappeared abruptly, and he considered this for a moment. “Eventually, perhaps. I should not be at all surprised. But ‘soon’? I think back over how long it took me to become proficient enough in magic to feel it possible for me to volunteer my aid in the war effort. Decades! Of course, I was working entirely on my own, from books, and I would like to think that Mr Strange will benefit from my experience and progress more quickly than I myself did.” 

Mr Strange nodded and bowed slightly with a little smile.

“Still,” Mr Norrell resumed, “in such important matters, we must be cautious. A fairly lengthy period of years in which Mr Strange serves as my assistant will be necessary. No doubt he will be a great help to me.”

The conversation turned to other matters, but a seed had been sown in Mr Lascelles’ mind. Later, as he was driving Mr Drawlight home in his carriage, he said, “Norrell may be entirely besotted by his young lover, but you no doubt noticed that he was not at all keen on the idea of Strange as his equal. I would wager that he does not want Sir Walter or Lord Mulgrave or Mr Horrocks or Mr Canning or any of the other high officials to value Strange _that_ highly. Strange is so handsome and flashy that he could throw considerable shade on Norrell and become a bigger sensation. Norrell may not understand how to manipulate the press and public opinion, but surely he can see that much.”

“No doubt. Ah, you have something in mind, Henry. I can always tell. What is it?”

“Well, the obvious thing to do is to find an opportunity to take Strange on his own to the Admiralty without Norrell being present. It would have to be on some occasion when the gentlemen there desperately need Norrell’s help and cannot get it. I could accompany Strange there and offer his help in Norrell’s place. Imagine the results if Strange attempts to fulfill their requests!” He smirked at Mr Drawlight.

Mr Drawlight smiled uncertainly. “Yes, Henry? What would the results be?”

“Well, if he fails, then Norrell will be angry that he presumed to help them without being able to succeed. The more serious the crisis, the angrier he would be. And if Strange were to succeed, as I hope he would, then Norrell will be horribly jealous. His student, far less than a year into his lengthy studies, would prove himself potentially the man’s equal. This clever young man would show the Admiralty’s leadership that Norrell is not unique, that he could take his place. Can you imagine anything more likely to enrage Norrell?”

Mr Drawlight had slowly begun to smile more and more widely as he listened to this plan. “I believe you are right, Henry. That is the one thing for which Norrell could not forgive Strange. It goes far beyond borrowing and hiding a forbidden book.”

“Exactly!”

Mr Drawlight hesitated before asking, “But Henry, how could we possibly know that, if you took Strange to the Admiralty, they would be in desperate need of help of some sort? And how could we prevent them from successfully summoning Norrell to help them?”

“Yes, those are formidable problems.” He sat thinking for a time. “Still, you know how those gentlemen are always complaining that they are constantly confronted with crises and that Norrell can never deal with all of them. It should not be too long before such two simultaneous crises occur again. You pay more attention to Norrell’s schedule than I do. How often do the government officials summon Norrell to deal with an emergency?”

“Well, of course it depends on the state of the war at any given time. When the fighting is intense and the English position deplorable, I should say perhaps once or twice a week.”

“I see. Well, the English position is certainly dire at the moment. Were it not for Norrell, the war would probably be lost by now. How often does another summons arrive when Norrell is not present—when he has already left to deal with the first crisis?”

“Less often, obviously. I suppose once every two weeks or so.”

“Then we must be patient. We would both have to be at Norrell’s house more consistently then we are now. Of course, I can always claim to be there to work on _The Friends of English Magic_. You, however, would be the one who could monitor any summons that Norrell receives and report to me. Can you do that?”

“Of course, Henry! I am there frequently enough as it is. And I have no objection to being in his warm, comfortable house, with servants doing my bidding. I could initiate another redecorating project. In fact, while most of the rooms where he would receive company are now completed, the reception hall has been deplorably neglected. Were I to undertake to make it more fashionable, I could be on the spot when any urgent messages arrived to summon Norrell to one of the government offices. Norrell never ignores my advice on redecorating rooms. He so desires to fit into fashionable society and has no idea how to do it. Of course, he has unlimited money for such projects, so he is unlikely to refuse.”

“Fine. As long as we are both there, eventually a call will come that draws Norrell away and occupies him elsewhere. Then a second emergency call will come. You must convince Strange that he should answer that call. He may be reluctant to put himself forward as a substitute for Norrell. You could reassure him. He likes you a great deal more than he likes me.”

Drawlight simpered slightly. “Do you think so, Henry?”

“Yes, definitely. After all, you make some effort to be agreeable to him. Once you have convinced him, I can take him to the Admiralty or the War Office or whoever desperately needs help. I shall present him to the officials as an adequate substitute for Norrell. As I said, whether he succeeds or fails in the magic he performs, Norrell will be furious.” 

++++++++++++++++++++

January, 1810

The pair did not have to wait any longer than they had anticipated. One morning about two weeks later a message arrived mid-morning summoning Mr Norrell to the Foreign Office.

Mr Norrell had just been about to begin the day’s lesson with Mr Strange—a lesson that both of them suspected might be eventually suspended for a short interval requiring complete privacy while they indulged their passion for each other. That passion had continued unabated since their first confession of their irresistible mutual desire. 

On this day, almost as soon as the lesson had begun, a message arrived from Mr Canning, who had urgent need of Mr Norrell’s assistance.

Mr Norrell exchanged a disappointed look with Mr Strange but sighed and went off to serve his country in the conflict with Napoleon. As he had instructed, Mr Strange stayed in the library, reading and taking notes on the book which Mr Norrell had assigned him.

Mr Drawlight, in the meantime, was present in the reception hallway, supervising the work of redecoration. He was feeling dreadfully bored, since his own contribution to the new look of the hallway had been entirely confined to the choosing of the materials and colours for the decoration. Watching it all being installed was of no interest at all, though he had assured Mr Norrell that he was most fascinated with watching his conceptions come into practical being.

Mr Drawlight’s persistent presence, however, guaranteed that he was there when a second summons for Mr Norrell, this time from the Admiralty, arrived in the person of Sir Walter Pole.

“Oh, dear! I’m afraid, Sir Walter, that Mr Norrell left a short time ago to deal with a situation at the Foreign Office. Mr Strange is here, however. Would you like to speak to him?”

Sir Walter dithered for a moment but then smiled and nodded. “Thank you, yes.”

Mr Drawlight escorted him into the library, where Mr Strange rose. “Good morning, Sir Walter. I’m afraid Mr Norrell—”

“Yes, so Mr Drawlight tells me, but the Admiralty is in urgent need of magical assistance.”

Mr Strange shook his head regretfully. “I’m afraid their summons must go unanswered for now. We have no idea when Mr Norrell might return. With good fortune perhaps it will be soon enough for him to be able to help Lord Mulgrave.” He made as if to return to his work.

Sir Walter walked over to the large table that Mr Strange used as a desk. “But Mr Strange, this is quite an urgent matter. The Government has received intelligence that some French ships, perhaps as many as ten, have slipped through the British blockage. No one has been able to discover whither they have gone or what they intend to do once they get there. To top it all off, the fleet of Admiral Armingcroft, who was supposed to prevent this sort of thing happening, has disappeared, presumably in pursuit of the French ships. We desperately need to find out where the French and British ships are. No doubt Mr Norrell would be the ideal one to respond, but as he is not here, could you not come to our aid?”

Mr Strange stared at him, undecided.

Mr Drawlight, who had lingered in the room after ushering Sir Walter into the library, pressed the point. “Mr Strange, just recently Mr Norrell admitted over dinner that you would eventually be his partner and even his equal. Surely in such an urgent matter … It might be enough to save English lives in the current conflict, might it not, Sir Walter?”

“I should think it very likely. After all, Mr Strange, you have done some wonderful things for us of late. The nightmares of the Russian Emperor are beginning to take their toll, from what I hear.”

Mr Strange stared at him uncertainly. “Well, I am delighted to hear it. Still, Mr Norrell taught me that spell explicitly for the occasion, and as he himself pointed out, it is a relatively simple one. Without his supervision …” He thought for a moment. “But yes, I do have a little spell that I acquired before I met Mr Norrell. It might serve. If it really is so urgent, I can hardly refuse to help. If Gil—that is, Mr Norrell arrives soon, he can follow after and perform whatever magic is required himself.”

“Splendid!” said Sir Walter. “I hardly expected anything less of you, Mr Strange!" 

Mr Drawlight interjected, “I shall remain here and inform him of what has happened. Wait just a moment, and I shall summon Mr Lascelles to accompany you.” He went out to fetch Mr Lascelles from the drawing-room.

Mr Strange was none too pleased to have Mr Lascelles accompany him, but he reflected that he knew little about the workings of the various Government offices that Mr Norrell regularly served and that he needed guidance in such matters. For the first time, he began to understand why Mr Norrell put up with the presences of Mr Lascelles and Mr Drawlight.

Within minutes Mr Lascelles appeared and greeted Sir Walter. He looked at Mr Strange in an unusually friendly fashion. “So! the Admiralty has summoned you! Here is your chance to shine, Mr Strange.”

“Well, I’m not sure that I can …”

“Oh, well, if it is simply a matter of locating lost ships, I’m sure the solution lies well within what Mr Norrell had taught you so far. After all, Mr Norrell is so very enthusiastic about your progress. Shall we go? After you, Sir Walter.”

Mr Strange put on his jacket and followed them out. “Yes, he is very kind about what I have learned. I only hope that I might offer Lord Mulgrave even a small part of the help that Mr Norrell could. If you gentlemen will wait just a minute or two, I need to fetch something from my room.”

He was feeling quite nervous at the prospect of having to do magic for the government all on his own, and yet he remembered the success of the first spell he had ever cast. He had not cast it since, but it was a simple one, and he could not help thinking that it would be pleasant to have a little glory redound to him for once. He also looked forward to how impressed Mr Norrell would be … if he succeeded.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Mr Norrell was given a sumptuous lunch at the Foreign Office after he had solved the relatively simple problem that had led to his summons. He arrived at Hanover-square at two o’clock in the afternoon, expecting to spend a pleasant afternoon in a lesson with Mr Strange. A lesson that he hoped might be interrupted by the brief interval of passionate lovemaking that they had been deprived of that morning. Instead the only person he found at work in the library was Childermass.

Mr Norrell attempted to hide his disappointment as he asked his Man of Business, “Is Mr Strange not here? I expected that he would still be studying the book I assigned him today.”

Childermass gave the knowing smile that he has taken to bestowing upon Mr Norrell shortly after Mr Strange’s arrival in the household.

“Mr Drawlight told me that Sir Walter Pole summoned him to aid Lord Mulgrave late in the morning … after you had left and were unavailable.”

Mr Norrell stared at him incredulously. “Sir Walter summoned Mr Strange?”

“Well, I should say, Sir Walter wished to summon you, and you being absent, Mr Strange went in your place.”

Mr Norrell continued to stare at him. “But … but he has never been there without me. What did Lord Mulgrave wish done?”

Childermass shrugged. “I have no idea, sir, and Mr Drawlight has departed. You must ask Mr Strange that when he returns.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

Mr Strange arrived back at Hanover-square by tea-time. He found Mr Norrell pacing the library. His tutor turned to face him with a worried expression and asked, “What have you done at the Admiralty, Mr Strange? I am astonished that you should have answered a summons and perhaps performed some urgently requested piece of magic without consulting me! You should always be guided by me until you have learned a great deal more about magic.”

Mr Strange felt guilty and yet defended himself. “I realize that, sir, but the request seemed to be urgent, and I felt that since you were not available and since Lord Mulgrave had been so very welcoming upon my first meeting with him, I might substitute for you in an emergency.”

Mr Norrell resumed pacing. He was more worried and upset than Mr Strange had ever seen him, even during the misunderstanding about the apparent borrowing of the book in the forbidden section of the library.

“Mr Strange,” he said, “did it not occur to you that acting upon your own you might make a mistake and discredit us both? More importantly, if you failed in your spell, you might hurt the cause of the return of English magic? That would be a terrible consequence!”

“Sir, I assure you, the task I was asked to perform, though an important one, was, magically speaking, a minor matter. It required a spell that I had used previously, even before I met you. Sir Walter and Lord Mulgrave and the others present praised me for it. Moreover, they spoke most highly of how you had instructed me. I do not believe that I have discredited you or hurt the cause of English magic in any way.”

Mr Norrell stared at him, puzzled. “But how do you know that your spell worked? You say it was one that you had used before you even met me. Was it not some sort of disrespectable magic, the sort that we are determined to avoid?”

Mr Strange stared at him, less certain of himself. He cleared his throat. “It involved, well, a spell I bought from a street magician in Shropshire. But I’m sure it—”

Mr Norrell looked at him in horror. “A street magician! Please, Mr Strange. Jonathan. Let us not speak of this more for now. I need to discuss it with Lord Mulgrave and Sir Walter in the morning.”

That night the two magicians ate their dinner in icy silence and slept in their separate bedrooms once more. Both lay awake late longing for each other, as before, suffering from not being able to embrace each other and sleep in each other’s arms. Both fell asleep after hours of wakefulness. Both were miserable.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next morning Mr Strange went sadly down to the breakfast room, only to find that Mr Norrell was not there. He ate his breakfast alone, once again fearing that he had somehow offended his master and might suffer a break from him. After eating, he drifted into the library, hoping to find Mr Norrell there, but there was only Childermass at his small desk. 

Childermass looked up at him inquiringly.

“Has Mr Norrell been here this morning?” he asked.

“No, sir. I believe he went out early. I’m sorry to say that I do not know where he was bound.”

Mr Strange nodded and went to sit in his usual place at the large central table. He opened a book and stared at it but did not turn a single page over the next few hours, nor did he take a single note.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Mr Norrell arrived at the Admiralty well before Lord Mulgrave did. He was given tea and allowed to sit in Mulgrave’s office for an hour or so, fretting and worrying until he had a dreadful headache. 

At last Lord Mulgrave entered his office. “Ah, Mr Norrell! Good morning to you. We missed you yesterday, as you no doubt have heard by now.”

Mr Norrell rose to greet him. “Good morning, your Lordship. Yes, yes, I am very sorry not to have been available when your crisis arose … whatever it was.”

“Oh, did Mr Strange not tell you?” And Lord Mulgrave proceeded to explain about the French ships slipping through the British blockade and the disappearance of the ships that had been maintaining that blockade. “In short, we desperately needed to find out whither they all went. We wished to supply Captain Lightwood with four or five more ships to aid in the pursuit and with good fortune the defeat of that elusive French fleet.”

“Dear me, finding out their location for you would have been a relatively simple matter for me. It was quite unwise of Mr Strange to attempt it without my being present. He seems to think that his spell succeeded, but I rushed to aid you in case it did not.”

“Fortunately, dear sir, his spell worked quite efficaciously. We know where the missing ships are and have sent word for Captain Lightwood to follow after.”

Mr Norrell looked at him in puzzlement. “Would you be able to describe what sort of magic Mr Strange employed?”

“Well, I am surprised that he did not tell you himself, but it seemed quite simple. Mr Strange requested a mirror and some dead flowers, arranging the latter on either side of the former. I did not hear what he said, as he muttered it under his breath. Whatever it was, it conjured up images of the French ships passing along a stretch of the Portuguese coast that I immediately recognized.”

Mr Norrell wiped his brow with his handkerchief. “Lord Mulgrave, I am deeply relieved to discover that Mr Strange has succeeded in this instance. I would strongly suggest that you not rely in future upon his performing magic without me being present—”

“Well, ordinarily not, of course … Come in!” he called out in response to a knock at the door. “Ah, Sir Walter, good morning! I was just telling Mr Norrell about Mr Strange’s success of yesterday.”

Sir Walter smiled. “Good morning, Lord Mulgrave, and to you, Mr Norrell. Yes, it was a delight to see Mr Strange so confidently and effectively work his spell. You held off for so long in taking on a pupil that many of us in the Government were worried that we would never have another magician to lend us the superlative aid that you have provided us. Lord Mulgrave remarked to me after Mr Strange’s departure yesterday that you obviously were waiting for just the right young man to teach. And you chose astonishingly well.”

Lord Mulgrave nodded and said to Mr Norrell, “I must admit, we were never sure whether you would prove as skillful a teacher as you are a practical magician, sir, but now it is clear that you are equally talented in both aspects of magic.”

He turned to Sir Walter, “What would you say to the idea of the Admiralty’s holding a celebratory banquet in honour of both Mr Norrell and Mr Strange and their budding partnership?”

“I think it a splendid idea! And if the information that Mr Strange obtained for us yesterday results in a defeat for the French fleet, we can celebrate that as well.”

So it was agreed upon, and Mr Norrell left feeling rather dazed, but with his headache entirely gone. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When he arrived in the library at Hanover-square, he found Mr Strange sitting forlornly at the big central table. The younger magician leapt up at once, looking at him in some trepidation.

Mr Norrell glanced over at Childermass, who was hard at work at his desk, and said, “Mr Strange, shall we go up to our little study to talk over the situation at the Admiralty?”

Mr Strange nodded and glumly followed him out. As they climbed the stairs, Mr Norrell said quietly, “I am sorry that I was so upset yesterday, but it came as quite a shock that you would perform magic without my guidance, especially in such a crucial emergency. You must admit that I had reason to be worried that it might affect the revival of English magic.”

“I suppose so, sir, but this was a spell that I had already performed, nearly two years ago now.”

“But how did you learn such a spell? I never taught it to you. From Lord Mulgrave’s description, you must have used “One Spell to Discover what My Enemy is doing Presently,” or at least, that is my name for my version of it. Yet you said you obtained it from a street magician.”

The pair arrived in the study and sat down opposite each other.

“Yes, a chap named Vinculus, who claimed he was traveling, I presume from London, in search of me.”

“Vinculus! He is a charlatan! How could he have got hold of … Oh. I recall that I gave Childermass a copy of that spell and ordered him to use it if need be to force Vinculus to leave London.”

“Aha! And you gave him another, “Two Spells to Make an Obstinate Man leave London.” I bought those from him as well, though I never tried them. I suppose I never had the occasion.”

“Yes! Vinculus must have stolen them from Childermass. I shall have to ask him.” He thought for a moment. “So in fact the spell you used yesterday was one I wrote!” He chuckled slightly in amazement.

Mr Strange suddenly rushed out of the room. Mr Norrell called after him in puzzlement, but in less than a minute Mr Strange returned and handed him a bit of dirty paper.

“Yes, that is my handwriting! Well, I … I am astonished at the coincidence. That you should be so far from London and yet happen upon the very person who could give you this spell.”

Mr Strange was feeling far more cheerful by this point. “Oh, I prefer to think that you and I were destined to meet and that that moment was our first contact, unwitting though it was.”

Mr Norrell looked at him with his old fondness. “Perhaps so. In which case, I suppose you were destined to succeed with your magic yesterday. In a sense, I _was_ there, guiding you.”

They gazed at each other for a moment in relief and joy before falling to kissing passionately. Soon Mr Norrell cast his muffling spell on the door, and the pair took advantage of the salve and handkerchiefs stored in the desk and of the convenient day-bed to celebrate their reconciliation with a vigorous buggering—a celebration far more agreeable than the upcoming banquet could possibly be, in Mr Norrell’s opinion.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles arrived for dinner that evening, being eager to see the downfall of Mr Strange. Lucas ushered them into the library for a pre-dinner glass of sherry. 

To their horror, they discovered Mr Norrell and Mr Strange seated side by side on the sopha before the fire, conversing in a very friendly fashion indeed. 

Mr Drawlight whispered into Mr Lascelles ear, “They’ve obviously just fucked.”

Mr Lascelles shot him a poisonous look and whispered back, “You needn’t smirk about it. Obviously something has gone dreadfully wrong.”

Greetings were exchanged all round, and the drinks were served. Two very genuine smiles and two very forced ones were in evidence on the faces of the little group.

Mr Norrell held up his glass. “A toast, gentlemen, to my new and official assistant in matters of magic for the Government! Mr Strange will be working with me regularly, and I have agreed to allow him a share of the fees that result.”

Mr Lascelles managed to keep his stiff smile fixed upon his countenance. “Really, sir? This is rather sudden. Just recently you were remarking on how long it would be before Mr Strange’s studies brought him to a point where that would be possible.”

“So I believed, but Lord Mulgrave and Sir Walter have convinced me that my abilities as a teacher are so great that Mr Strange is progressing more quickly than I could possibly have envisioned. He succeeded very well with his spell at the Admiralty yesterday, and we are to be jointly honoured with a lavish banquet in two weeks time.”

“How splendid!” Mr Drawlight managed to exclaim, given that Mr Lascelles clearly had not the heart to summon up any congratulatory remarks.

Mr Strange said, “Yes, and surprisingly enough, the spell I used was based on a copy written by Mr Norrell, one which I obtained under most curious circumstances two years ago.”

“Yes,” Mr Norrell said delightedly. “I shall insist upon Mr Strange relating that tale to you at dinner. Indeed, I have only heard a brief account of it and would be glad to know absolutely all the details.”

“Oh, I can hardly wait to hear about it! I do love magic so!” Mr Drawlight responded with more cheeriness than he felt.

“Ah, there is the gong now. Let us retire to the dining room.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

The evening ended with another gloomy carriage ride home for Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles.

“Christopher, I am stymied. Stolen books do not phase Norrell. A risky and important spell undertaken without guidance does not move him. He seems ready to allow that young whelp to go to any lengths when it comes to magic, and magic is all Norrell cares about.” He shook his head in disgust. “Apparently Norrell cannot be estranged from Strange.”

Mr Drawlight tittered at this bitter witticism and replied, “Magic is not quite all that Norrell cares for. He cares for a good fucking, and I assure you, Strange gives him that very effectively. We need not depend on schemes involving magic to turn Norrell against his lover.”

“Oh? So you think romantic jealousy offers a better way? You may be right. We could try to convince Norrell that Strange is playing him false with another man. No, not just another man. Another magician. That would seem more plausible and indeed more dreadful to Norrell. He might fall for such a trick. After all, a man that plain and old and boring must harbour secret doubts that someone as handsome and virile as Strange could really love him in any lasting way.”

“I should not be surprised. They are truly an odd pair.”

“It’s a complicated problem, though. For a start, there are apparently no other magicians about. Ironically, you and I have aided Norrell in suppressing them. Second, we can’t count on Strange actually betraying Norrell in this fashion. After all, he has ensnared a rich, doting lover who is promoting his career to an absurd extent. Why should he risk all that?”

“I agree, why should he? We shall have to arrange circumstances where Norrell will jump to the conclusion that Strange is having an affair with someone else.”

The two sat contemplating the difficulties of such arrangements until they reached Little Ryder-street and Mr Drawlight climbed down. The two parted, agreeing that they would devote their mental energies to coming up with a scheme. 

 

*Mr Norrell had first aided the country in its war against France by creating the famous rain-ships illusion at Brest and several other French-controlled harbours. Lord Mulgrave, First Lord of the Admiralty, and Mr Horrocks, First Secretary of the Admiralty, had invited him to come and drink madeira-wine in the Board Room and praised him greatly. Although all Government officials involved in conducting the war, including the Foreign Secretary Mr George Canning, wished to enlist Mr Norrell’s assistance, the Admiralty maintained the greatest claim on his time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last chapter has turned out to be far longer than its fellows. Perhaps I should have broken it into five chapters, but this last elaborate and devious scheme of Mr Lascelles and Mr Drawlight seemed to be of a piece, and I was reluctant to break it up.
> 
> This AU has ignored most of the plot, eliminating not only Arabella but Mr Norrell's huge mistake in relation to the summoning of a Fairy and the resurrection of Lady Pole. It focuses solely on the treachery of Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles and at the end gives Jonathan and Gilbert an idyllic, obstacle-free life together. I hope despite the simplification that this little plot pleases.

February 1810

Over the course of some weeks Mr Lascelles occasionally paused in his duties and social engagements to ponder how he and Mr Drawlight might fool Mr Norrell into believing that his darling Mr Strange had fallen in love with another man. There were considerable obstacles involved. 

The two magicians were so taken up with their work and with each other that they seldom left Hanover-square. When they did, it was usually to meet with the high Government officials who desired their help. Once in a while they still attended banquets and dances, since Mr Strange was a sociable sort of man and missed such entertainments. When Mr Lascelles was present at these events, he observed that Mr Norrell was less anxious and withdrawn than usual when he was accompanied by Mr Strange. He could sit with a little smile on his face, watching Mr Strange talking with the other guests. Some of these guests often praised Mr Norrell for having found such a talented and agreeable pupil. Mr Norrell did not hesitate to talk enthusiastically about Mr Strange, so for once he was able to respond to questions and comments with a faint animation about his usually dull face.

The problem was that they never went any place where Mr Lascelles or Mr Drawlight had any control over the proceedings. The two could not stage an apparent assignation between Strange and some fellow who could play the role of a young magician, not with so many people about and so many unpredictable things that might happen. 

Mr Lascelles had begun to despair of finding a suitable plan. The only sign of hope he saw was that lately Mr Drawlight had been quite pleased with himself and disgustingly secretive. When Mr Lascelles asked what he was so blasted cheerful about, Mr Drawlight simply smiled and said, “You will see, Henry, you will see.”

Nevertheless, it seemed unlikely that any thing Drawlight conceived of would bring about the desired result, so such teazing did not afford him much comfort.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Early one afternoon Mr Lascelles was working on his editorial correspondence at his Bruton-street residence when Mr Drawlight was announced.

Mr Drawlight came in looking very self-satisfied. He said hastily, “Now, Henry, don’t scold me because I have interrupted your work. I have something quite important to tell you concerning our situation with Norrell.”

Mr Lascelles frowned curiously and gestured Drawlight to sit in a comfortable chair. He poured them both glasses of his second-best sherry and sat down opposite his friend.

“Now, what is this quite important news?”

“You may not believe it, but I have a plan all worked out. Yes, me! I think it quite a brilliant one. To start with, I have a book, Henry! A book of magic! We can use it to implement our plan to lure Norrell into believing that Strange is playing him false with another magician … one considerably younger and more handsome than he.”

Mr Lascelles looks at him suspiciously. “A book of magic? You didn’t take one of Norrell’s, did you?”

“Of course not, what sort of ninny do you take me for? I am well aware that Norrell dotes over his books like a mother cat over her kittens. He could probably recognize any book that he has ever owned—even the duplicate copies that he buys up so that other magicians cannot read them. This, I will have you know, is a book that Norrell does not own and that he most especially wishes to procure.”

“How in the world do you know what books Norrell particularly desires?”

Mr Drawlight sighed and shook his head tolerantly. “You should develop the habit of making surreptitious observations around Norrell’s study, Henry. I have learned quite a bit about him in the odd moments when I am alone there. And one thing I discovered is that Childermass keeps a list of the books that Norrell tells him he particularly wants. This, as I say, is one of the rarest. Norrell breaks his list up into eleven sections according to their rarity, and this one is listed in the second section down. And the first section is labelled ‘Probably no copies exist, but possibly one will turn up.’ So in fact this book is among the rarest known to exist.” 

Mr Lascelles was sitting up straighter, no longer suspicious or ready to mock Mr Drawlight. “How in the world did you obtain such a rare book if even Norrell could not?”

Mr Drawlight smiled smugly. “Oh, I have my connections everywhere, you know that. After I came to know Norrell, I copied titles off Childermass’ list. I set friends to watch for magical books in their acquaintances’ libraries, in bookshops, at auctions—in short, everywhere. They’ve only brought a few to my attention, but I have gained a little gratitude from Norrell for informing him of their existence. Most have been in Norrell’s tenth or eleventh categories, only slightly rare, duplicates of books he already owns in at least one copy. Still, he buys them, of course. But this one is no duplicate, far from it! Imagine my delight when I actually found it! That was half a year ago or so, but I have held it back in case we ever needed to put some pressure on Norrell or gain some special favour from him. This seems exactly that sort of occasion.”

“Well, that is good news indeed, but having found it, how did you obtain it? It must have cost a good deal more than you could afford, and your credit is hardly worth any thing these days.”

Mr Drawlight smiled nervously. “It was indeed rather expensive. In fact, I did not purchase it outright but paid a deposit. I have put the dealer in the way of some advantageous purchases among my acquaintance—not books of magic, of course, and always for a small portion of the sales price. So the dealer was willing to wait for the rest of the money. I finally picked it up from him only yesterday. I, uh, instructed him to send the bill for the balance to you.”

Mr Lascelles nodded as if this were just the sort of thing he expected of Mr Drawlight. He sighed. “I assume this valuable book plays some central role in your scheme. I hope it is a viable one.”

“Yes, well, of course that is only the beginning. Suppose that we have a handsome young man offer the book for sale to Strange. This young man would be interested in magic but not skilled at it. He has a small library of magical books but is in dire straits and needs to sell this particularly valuable one because … oh, say because he is a law student trying to pay the expenses of his studies. Yes, that sounds plausible. I point out to Strange that Norrell’s birthday is coming up and that I know someone who could provide him with the perfect present.”

Mr Lascelles looked a bit doubtful. “So he comes to Hanover-square and sells Strange the book, perhaps at a time when Norrell can see them together. Surely there is more to it.”

“Naturally there is. There is supposedly some one else interested in the book, and our young ‘magician’ is allowing them to bid against each other, necessitating regular visits to Hanover-square. These visits will either be reported to Norrell or, ideally, he would see the young man. Repeated visits for a purpose that Strange will keep secret. Surely that will set Norrell wondering. We could of course drop hints that the two of them are very friendly.”

“Well, given that I myself have not been able to think of a plan of my own, I suppose we must try yours—which I must admit is quite clever. Confining the meetings of Strange and this putative magician to Hanover-square makes it easier for us to control what happens and also to observe what goes on. I would have no connection with this fellow, and you would introduce him as a mere acquaintance. Now, how are we to provide this handsome young man?”

Mr Drawlight sat forward in his chair and gestured enthusiastically as he replied, “Oh, Henry, I have the perfect fellow for it! An exquisitely beautiful young actor and so talented! Quite the best actor in all of London, I would warrant. I have seen him command the stage often. Unfortunately for him, though not for us, he is, shall we say, between engagements and in need of cash to support him until he gains his next role.”

Mr Lascelles was dubious about his friend’s assessment of the man’s talents, but he simply replied, “I take it that all this means he is free to go to Hanover-square at virtually any time.”

“Assuredly, given enough advance notice.”

“And what is this paragon’s name?”

“Nathan Clarke.”

Lascelles had never heard the name in regard to the London stage and became even more dubious about Mr Clarke’s vaunted talent, but he reflected that a well-known actor might possibly be recognized by Mr Norrell. Not that Mr Norrell ever attended the theatre, but he might have been introduced to the fellow at some banquet or ball had he been a celebrity. An obscure actor was clearly the better option. He said, “And I am to pay for his services as well as for the book, I assume. I suppose that is all right this time, as this plan is one that benefits both of us, me even more than you … if it works out. But don’t make a habit of it!”

“No, of course not, Henry,” Mr Drawlight said with a charming smile which utterly failed to charm Mr Lascelles.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Over the next two days Mr Drawlight made the arrangements with his friend Mr Clarke and turned over the precious volume, _Exercitatio Magica Nobilissima_. He also provided Mr Clarke with a few elementary books on magic and several issues of _The Friends of English Magic_ to study, in the hope that he could convincingly speak about magic as if he were truly interested in it. 

Mr Drawlight waited nearly two weeks until he discovered that Mr Norrell would be lunching at the Admiralty two days hence. He then appeared on that day at Hanover-square just in time to have his own lunch in the company of Mr Strange. 

Mr Drawlight led up to the central topic of his visit with a little light gossip and some inquiries about Mr Strange’s progress in his studies of magic—a topic that did not interest him much but demonstrated a profound concern for Mr Strange’s happiness and well-being.

Once Mr Strange had spoken enthusiastically of how much he was learning from his tutor, Mr Drawlight replied, “Oh, that reminds me. I suppose you are aware that Mr Norrell’s birthday is little over a month away. March 23, to be precise.”

Mr Strange stared at him with delight. “No, I never thought to ask Mr Norrell when his birthday is. I must think carefully about what to get him. I suppose I should avoid choosing a book as a gift, since he has so many of them. Yet what else might interest him, I have no idea. He really presents a problem in such matters.”

“On the contrary, my dear Mr Strange. I was about to say that I am delighted to be able to introduce you to someone who can sell you the ideal present for Mr Norrell. Contrary to what you assume, it is a book, and one that Mr Norrell very much wants to obtain.”

Mr Strange, who was startled to learn that Mr Drawlight should know anything about Mr Norrell’s bibliographic needs and desires, asked, “But how did you learn of such a book?”

Mr Drawlight smiled and shrugged airily. “Oh, it was quite by chance. Childermass was going through the mail and mentioned that he had a catalogue from some bookseller or other. Mr Norrell asked if a volume called _Exercitatio Magica Nobilissima_ was listed in it. Childermass looked through it and said there wasn’t. Mr Norrell seemed to sigh in disappointment, and Childermass said something to the effect that, ‘You should hardly be surprised at that. After all, you have been hoping to find it for years and have never run across a copy.’ Mr Norrell agreed and said that he probably would never find one.

“I thought to write it down, but the name is so complicated and in Latin and so on. So I asked Mr Norrell to spell it for me. I promised to tell him if I ever encountered a copy. I shall keep that promise, indirectly, by helping you to obtain it for him.”

“ _Exercitatio Magica Nobilissima._ Yes, I recall seeing a reference to it in one of the readings Mr Norrell assigned to me. I asked if he had that title, and he said no, it had eluded him so far. So you really can refer me to someone who wants to sell a copy? That would be a splendid present!” Mr Strange sighed and smiled at the thought of how happy and grateful his dear Gilbert would be.

“Yes, a young friend of mine. Nathan Clarke, a young law student who has a keen interest in magic. He does not claim to be a practical magician, mind you, but he dips into _The Friends of English Magic_ when he has the chance. He is not happy at the prospect of selling this book to you, but as a student, he is always in need of money.”

“Well, if you could introduce him to me, I should be most grateful.”

“Nothing could be easier. I can bring him around any time you like. I should warn you, though, there is some one else interested in purchasing the volume. I do not know the chap’s name, but Mr Norrell would not be best pleased for him to obtain it. I’m afraid you might have to bid against this other fellow and end up paying a high price.”

“Oh? That is annoying. Still, now that Mr Norrell is giving me part of the fees he receives for our projects for the government, and since I have a tolerable income of my own, I think I might come out the winner. It would be worth it, to please Mr Norrell.”

“That’s the spirit, Mr Strange! Oh, I suppose we should arrange for Mr Clarke to come when Mr Norrell is out. I assume you want the present to be an entire surprise to him.”

“Indeed! Tell him not to bring the volume itself this time, since we need to discuss the price and what this other aspirant is willing to pay for it. It would be awkward were Mr Norrell to walk in and see the book. He would undoubtedly wish to know what it is, and that would ruin the surprise, as you say. I know that he has an appointment at the War Office on Thursday morning at ten o’clock. He said I need not accompany him, since it is a matter beyond my current state of knowledge, and I should be better off continuing my studies.”

And so it was arranged.

+++++++++++++++++++++

Mr Clarke turned up at Hanover-square a short time before ten o’clock on Thursday. He joined Mr Drawlight, who was standing just around the corner from Mr Norrell’s house. They noted that Mr Norrell’s carriage was waiting outside his door, so they watched until they saw him come out and the carriage depart. After a short pause, they approached the house and rang the bell. Once in the library, Mr Drawlight introduced his companion to Mr Strange, and the latter ordered tea.

The three sat chatting for over an hour. Mr Clarke, who was every bit as handsome as Mr Drawlight had described him to Mr Lascelles, was also witty and a charming conversationalist. 

Eventually talk turned to _Exercitatio Magica Nobilissima._ Mr Strange asked its condition. 

“Well, naturally it is rather worn, given that it dates from the seventeenth century. That said, however, I can assure you that it is complete and the binding fairly tight. I would wager that it sat on a shelf for a good long time, unused. If you are seriously interested in purchasing it and are willing to offer more than the other potential buyer, I could bring it by to show you.”

Mr Drawlight interrupted. “No, no, that would not do! Suppose Mr Norrell were to see it. But I assure you, Mr Strange, I have seen the volume, and it is as Mr Clarke describes. Mr Norrell has many books in his library that look much the same.”

“I shall take your word for it, Mr Clarke. And how much is the other offer?”

Mr Clarke named a sum that was fairly high. It was in fact the price that Mr Drawlight had paid, thanks to Mr Lascelles, for the book when he acquired it. He hoped that the two buyers, one Mr Strange and one entirely fictitious, would bid the book higher, allowing Mr Drawlight to pocket the difference apart from a small addition to Mr Clarke’s fee for playing his role so well.

Mr Strange gulped slightly at the cost, but he knew that it was not unreasonable, given what he knew about the sums Mr Norrell regularly paid for rare books.

“Well, I suppose I could raise that sum by ten guineas.”

Mr Drawlight shook his head with a little frown and waggled his hand up and down slightly.

“Or, perhaps I should make that twenty guineas,” Mr Strange added.

Mr Drawlight smiled.

Mr Clarke smiled as well. “Thank you, Mr Strange. I shall talk to the other party and …”

“Oh, my Lord, look at the time!” said Mr Drawlight suddenly. “I must be going. But do not let me rush you away, Mr Clarke. Finish your tea. Oh, and Mr Strange, best not mention to Mr Norrell that I was here. After all, I came solely on your behalf and I have no message to leave him which would explain my visit.”

Mr Clarke had been instructed that if possible he should delay his own departure long enough to allow Mr Norrell to see and even perhaps meet him, so he simply bade his friend goodbye and resumed his conversation with Mr Strange.

“I do regret being forced to sell this book, Mr Strange. As Mr Drawlight may have told you, I have a keen interest in magic. In fact, I once had ambitions to become a magician myself, but my father insisted on the law.”

“Yes, he said that you were forced to sell in order to continue your studies. But have you managed to acquire any other, less valuable books of magic that you might keep, just for your own pleasure?”

“A few, and they have intrigued me mightily. Ah, I do envy you the great good fortune of being the pupil of the Greatest Magician of the Age!”

They continued to chat for close to another hour. Mr Clarke had studied enough that he was able to discuss the two magicians’ latest doings and say a few things about the issues raised in _The Friends of English Magic._ Indeed, he was knowledgeable enough that Mr Strange enjoyed the conversation and lost track of the time. 

He was startled to see Mr Norrell enter, and jumped to his feet.

Mr Norrell looked equally startled to see his pupil not hard at work, as usual, but enjoying the company of an unknown young man. “I am sorry to have interrupted you, gentlemen,” he said, glancing curiously between them and blinking rapidly.

Mr Clarke had also risen, and Mr Strange, frantically thinking how he could explain his presence, said, “Mr Norrell, this is an old friend of mine from my university days, Mr Nathan Clarke. He, uh, recently learned from a mutual friend that I am living in London now and stopped by to say hello.”

Mr Clarke shook hands with the great magician, affecting a somewhat nervous manner, as Mr Drawlight had instructed. 

“I am delighted to meet the great magician of whose deeds I have heard so much. You have done amazing things on behalf of the nation, sir. But no doubt the two of you wish to return to your lessons. I shall take my leave of you.”

Mr Strange escorted him to the door in order to arrange a time when Mr Clarke could return and tell him of the other party’s raising his offer or, ideally, retiring from the field and leaving the book to Mr Strange. Mr Clarke said that he would let Mr Drawlight know, and the latter could arrange the next meeting. 

Meanwhile Mr Norrell was staring after them. Mr Strange’s words when he told about how he had gained his intimate skills at school and the university immediately came back to him: “You have no idea how boys and young men sometimes behave amongst themselves.” Was this one of the young men with whom Mr Strange … He considered how very handsome this man was in comparison with himself. He tried to reassure himself that Mr Strange was in love with him and there was nothing to worry about. Still, he could not entirely banish Mr Clarke from his mind as he resumed to his work and awaited Mr Strange’s return and the resumption of his lessons. That return seemed to take an unwarrantedly long time.

In short, Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles, had they known his thoughts, would have congratulated themselves upon the success of their plan so far.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Lascelles and Drawlight again planned Mr Clarke’s second visit for a time when they were confident that Mr Norrell would be away. Again they hoped that Mr Norrell would come back and find Mr Clarke. This time they both accompanied him, and the four of them sat in the library for a time talking. 

This time Childermass was also present, though from his little desk in the corner he could not hear very well what the men discussed—curious though he was about this new young man who seemed to be getting on so well with Mr Strange. In the course of the conversation Mr Clarke leaned toward Mr Strange briefly and said something to him so softly that Childermass had not a clue as to the subject matter. Mr Strange looked rather disappointed but nodded and whispered something back to him. 

The three conspirators kept the conversation going as long as they could, but eventually Mr Strange began to hint that he really must be getting back to work. Mr Clarke was rather relieved, as he was nearly depleted of the store of magical knowledge that he had worked up, and he feared that he might say something that would betray his ignorance. He replied politely and softly, “Of course, we must not keep you from your studies. I shall certainly let you know the result of your latest bid as soon as may be.”

At that, Mr Drawlight, Mr Lascelles and Mr Strange left to escort Mr Clarke out. Mr Strange called over to Childermass, saying he would be working in the upstairs study for a while, Mr Norrell having left him a task concerning their current project.

To Childermass’ annoyance, Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles soon returned, Mr Lascelles to sit at Mr Norrell’s desk and deal with an article he was writing and Mr Drawlight to idle away the time before dinner seated on Mr Norrell’s favorite sopha before the fire. 

The situation was thus arranged upon Mr Norrell’s return. He greeted his guests and looked around for Mr Strange. Not seeing him, he went over to speak with Childermass.

“Where is Mr Strange, Childermass?”

“He is upstairs in the study, sir, at work.”

“Ah, good!” He hesitated and said more quietly, “Has any one come to call?”

Childermass suspected what he was concerned about. “Yes, sir. A Mr Clarke. Isn’t that the young man who you said called upon Mr Strange recently?” Having now seen Mr Clarke for himself, he wondered if Mr Norrell was feeling more than a little worried and jealous. He had to admit to himself that Mr Clarke was indeed a fine-looking fellow and seemed to get on swimmingly with Mr Strange.

Mr Norrell looked quite unhappy by now, but he tried to pass it off. “Yes, an old university friend of Mr Strange’s. Well, I shall go back to my reading … or perhaps I shall shelve some books.”

Shelving books was ordinarily Childermass’ duty, but he knew that Mr Norrell sometimes resorted to doing it when he was too worried to concentrate on his reading. As Mr Norrell began to look through the stacks of books on the central table, Mr Lascelles rose from behind his desk, stretched and joined Mr Drawlight. 

Mr Drawlight smiled at him. “Well, Henry, do you admit that I was right? Mr Strange seems quite friendly with Mr Clarke. I am not surprised. Mr Clarke is _such_ a handsome fellow.”

They were speaking just loudly enough that Mr Norrell could not help overhearing. He moved the books around on the table and avoided looking at the two, but he was listening closely.

Mr Lascelles shrugged, and Mr Drawlight went on, “Not only that, but Mr Clarke seems to fancy himself a magician. He is only a beginner, to be sure, but perhaps Mr Strange sees promise in him. You should be pleased. Mr Clarke seems to have a considerable knowledge of _The Friends of English Magic_.”

Mr Norrell froze in horror. Another magician! All the more reason that Mr Strange might be attracted to this beautiful young man!

Mr Drawlight asked, “Did you by any chance hear what Mr Clarke whispered to him just before he left?”

Mr Lascelles replied, “No, nor did I hear what Mr Strange replied. One can readily imagine, however.” The two smirked at each other and turned to other gossip.

Childermass had also overheard this conversation, and it worried him. He had expected Mr Norrell to go and join Mr Strange in the upstairs study, where the two spent a considerable amount of time together. Instead, the magician continued to sort and shelve the books, though he moved slowly and paused occasionally, looking quite despondent. Childermass had begun to take it for granted that Mr Strange and Mr Norrell were too close for them ever to part and that Mr Norrell’s new, more even-tempered self would be permanent. Now he was not so sure. After a moment’s consideration he realized that he could do nothing to alter the situation, for the moment at least, and he sighed and returned to his duties.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

The news that Mr Clarke had given to Mr Strange was, of course, that the mythical rival bidder had raised his offer by another twenty guineas beyond the sum offered by Mr Strange during his first visit. He had reassured Mr Strange, however, that this rival seemed reluctant to do so and that Mr Strange’s new offer might prove the successful one. 

Sure enough, Mr Drawlight told Mr Strange that Mr Clarke would like to call upon him a third time, as he was to hear that from the rival as to whether he wished to make a higher offer.

Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles changed tactics and deliberately planned this visit for a time when Mr Norrell was at home

When Mr Drawlight arrived with Mr Clarke, Mr Strange came quickly down from the library to meet them in the hallway. He asked somewhat anxiously, “Well, Mr Clarke, has the other fellow made yet another offer? I fear that—”

“You need not fear anything, Mr Strange. I am delighted to tell you that he has given up and left the field to you. You may have the book at the last price you named. I must say that I am very pleased that the book should go to such a great magician as your tutor. As you instructed, I have not brought it with me, in case he should see me deliver it, but you may come to this address,” and here he gave Mr Strange a card with his address written upon it as he continued, “and pay for it and take it away with you at your convenience.”

Mr Drawlight chimed in, “Oh, congratulations, Mr Strange! I am delighted to have helped you to find such a wonderful gift for Mr Norrell. Well, I shall leave you two to make the final arrangements and go up to the library to say hello to him.”

Mr Drawlight went more hurriedly than usual and entered the library when Mr Norrell responded to his knock. 

When he approached Mr Norrell’s desk, the latter asked with a little frown, “Have you seen Mr Strange? He left so suddenly, and I have no idea where he went.”

“Yes, I just saw him in the hallway. He was talking to Mr Clarke, whom I believe you know. I must say, I suspect there is a distinct attraction between those two, given how often Mr Clarke has taken to visiting here. It doesn’t surprise me at all. They make such a handsome couple. And Mr Clarke a thwarted magician, too. You may soon find yourself with a second pupil,” he concluded with a little smile and wagged a teazing finger at Mr Norrell.

Mr Norrell stood up and excused himself abruptly. As dusk was approaching, he took up a candle and started down the stairs, leaving Mr Drawlight to entertain himself. Partway down the stairway, he heard the voices of the two men in the hallway below. He blew out the candle and went down to a point where he could see them, but where he was nearly invisible in the shadows.

Mr Strange said, “If it suits you, I shall call at your home at two o’clock tomorrow afternoon. I am sure I can find an excuse to leave Mr Norrell for a short time.

“Of course,” Mr Clarke replied, “nothing could please me more.”

“I do not think he suspects a thing. We have been very careful. Well, you had best go. He’ll be down for dinner in a short time, and we certainly do not want him to see you here again or he might start asking questions.”

“Certainly! Two o’clock, then. I cannot tell you how delighted I am that our acquaintance has led to such a satisfying result!”

Mr Norrell stood frozen upon the stair for a short time, breathing heavily and staring into space. Hearing Mr Strange lock the door and start toward the staircase. Mr Norrell groped his way hurriedly up to the library and sat at his desk for the few minutes before the gong for dinner rang, so appalled that he did not notice the curious glances that Mr Drawlight cast in his direction. If he had noticed, he might have discerned a suppressed look of delight in Mr Drawlight’s face. But Mr Norrell was not one to discern the thoughts and feelings of other men.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dinner was a somber affair. Mr Strange initially seemed unusually cheerful, but he soon noticed that Mr Norrell was staring down at his plate and picking at his food. When he inquired what the matter was, Mr Norrell simply said that he had a bad headache. Mr Drawlight did his best to keep the conversation going, but Mr Strange replied only briefly, concerned as he was for his lover’s indisposition.

After the meal and Mr Drawlight’s departure, Mr Norrell told Mr Strange that he was going straight to bed and would prefer to sleep alone until his headache disappeared. Mr Strange agreed sadly and bade him a quick recovery, though he little thought what was actually oppressing his master.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Though feeling lonely, Mr Strange fell asleep readily and slept well through the night.

Mr Norrell was not so fortunate. He spent a completely sleepless night, fretting about how to respond to Mr Strange’s treachery. Surely he could not abide having his lover living in his household and studying with him after having betrayed him with another man, and a magician at that. By the wee hours of the morning he had decided that Mr Strange must cease to be his pupil and must exit his house, never to return.

Mr Norrell did not go down to breakfast the next morning but waited to leave his bedroom until he was sure Mr Strange would be in the library and hard at work on his studies. Mr Norrell avoided the library but went straight to the drawing-room, where, as he had expected, he found Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles, who welcomed him in a friendly fashion.

After this brief, friendly exchange, Mr Norrell plucked up his courage and said, “I believe that Mr Strange will be leaving my household and my tutelage soon.”

The two other men looked at him, feigning shocked curiosity.

“Yes, he has … he has encouraged another magician and become friends with him. As you know, I do not believe that there can be other magicians. I made quite an exception by taking Mr Strange on as a pupil. Now he has betrayed my principles. I cannot tolerate that.”

There was a short silence as Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles successfully concealed their glee and looked quite solemn, nodding sympathetically.

“Well, sir,” said Mr Lascelles, “if you believe that he has betrayed you, then I can only concur that you should rid yourself of him as soon as possible.”

“I know that you are dreadfully disappointed,” chimed in Mr Drawlight, “but better to make a clean break now than tolerate such behavior and find Mr Strange going against your beliefs in other ways.”

“I assure you, though,” added Mr Lascelles, “that _we_ shall always remain your faithful friends. It is not the same as finding a talented colleague and friend, but I assure you, we shall never betray you in such a fashion.”

They waited for a short time, during which Mr Norrell stared at the floor, seeming not to be as encouraged by these friendly declarations as Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles might have wished.

At last Mr Drawlight glanced at Mr Lascelles and rose, moving to sit down on the sopha beside Mr Norrell. He gently touched Mr Norrell’s sleeve and said silkily, “Perhaps if Mr Strange leaves, I could show my friendship by performing any little services that he may have been providing you.”

Mr Norrell glanced at him glumly before looking down again. “I doubt it. You know nothing of magic, so how could you take his place in performing services for me?”

Mr Drawlight glanced at Mr Lascelles and rolled his eyes before responding, “I was thinking of something of a more personal nature.”

Mr Norrell stared at him in puzzlement and sighed, looking down once more.

Mr Drawlight stood up and turned toward Mr Lascelles, who was watching with a sour expression. Mr Drawlight shrugged with an annoyed look, and Mr Lascelles jerked his hear toward the door. The two went out, murmuring their good-byes to Mr Norrell, who was too disconsolate to notice.

Once outside in the hallway, Mr Lascelles said, “Never mind that Norrell is too obtuse to understand what you were offering. Once he renounces Strange, perhaps he will lose his desire for such activities. Or perhaps you can make your offer more bluntly. The point is, we seem to have thoroughly convinced him that his young lover had turned to another, more attractive partner. Surely he will do as he has said: reject Strange as a pupil and send him away.”

Mr Drawlight smiled as they walked down toward the entrance. “It looks very likely, Henry. All should return to normal—that is, as it was before Strange intruded into Norrell’s life.”

Mr Norrell remained where he was, slumped on the sopha and thinking. He had declared that he would send Mr Strange away, but he could not bear the prospect of losing Mr Strange, either as a fellow magician or a lover. He recalled all that they had accomplished together, the talks they had enjoyed. And there was the pleasure, the lying together afterward and caressing and talking softly. After Mr Strange’s arrival, Mr Norrell had known a joy that went beyond anything he had ever experienced—even beyond his buoyant happiness when a difficult magic spell finally worked. Such moments of happiness had been intense but fleeting, as he passed on to the next challenge. But the joy with Mr Strange went on without ceasing.

He decided that he would simply not let Mr Strange go. Would Mr Strange, however, wish to stay with him? 

He went up to his study, ordering his lunch to be brought to him there. He told the servants to inform Mr Strange that he was working alone on an important project and was not to be disturbed. At two o’clock he went down to the library. Childermass was just on his way out, but he told Mr Norrell that Mr Strange had left a short time before on an errand that he had not confided to Childermass.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

Mr Norrell sat on the sopha, barely moving for over an hour. He pictured Mr Strange visiting this young Mr Clarke in his rooms and their performing the same acts of passion that he had performed with Mr Strange. Perhaps the two were truly in love. The idea seemed unbearable, and yet … The fire died down and was emitting almost no heat by the time that he roused himself. He had come to a conclusion—a difficult one, but one he knew he must face. 

He was just contemplating getting up and putting some coal on the fire when Mr Strange came in. He glanced at Mr Norrell before hurrying over to his work-table and putting a bulky package into a drawer. He then came over to stand beside the sopha.

Mr Strange looked around to ascertain that they were alone before saying cheerfully, “My dear Gilbert, why are you sitting here in near darkness? And look at that fire—if it can be dignified by such a name! Are you not cold?”

“Indeed I am, Jonathan. Please, if you would build up the fire a little and come sit beside me.”

“That sounds very cozy,” Mr Strange said, putting coal in the grate and lighting a large lamp before sitting on the sopha. 

The brighter light revealed tears in Gilbert’s eyes, spilling down onto his cheeks.

“Gilbert! What is wrong? Why are you crying?” He sat down beside his teacher and stared at him with great concern.

Mr Norrell took a deep breath. He pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose. He managed to say, “I have been thinking, Jonathan, and I have made a decision.”

“Yes? About what?”

“I … I do not blame you for having fallen in love with someone else.”

Mr Strange’s mouth dropped open, and he stared at Mr Norrell in utter confusion. “Fallen in love? I … I haven’t—”

Mr Norrell forged ahead, determined not to be interrupted. “About this other magician that you have become so … friendly with. I cannot deny that I am jealous, but after all, it is only natural. He is very handsome, and—”

“Whom in the world are you talking about?” Mr Strange asked.

“You need not hide your actions from me, I assure you, Jonathan. I mean the very good-looking gentleman with whom you have been meeting lately. I … I was upset at first, and I thought to send you away, but I find I cannot bear to see you leave me. I could not go back to my old, solitary life. If I cannot have you as a lover, I would still treasure you as a friend. I have decided to accept this other magician as a second pupil if only you will stay with me. I shall invite him to come and live here with you and, if you wish, to sleep with you in your bedroom.” He stopped and gulped.

“Gilbert, I am simply astonished! What made you think that I could ever throw you over for another? Mr Clarke is certainly very handsome, but I barely know him.”

Mr Norrell stared at him forlornly and in some confusion. “But you ... you introduced him to me as a friend from your university days. It occurred to me that he was probably one of those whom you knew intimately at the time. One who introduced you to the amorous joys that you and I have subsequently shared. And now he has sought you out again, and the two of you have rekindled your old love. I understand. He is so much better looking than I and clearly closer to you in age … far closer.” He ended with a soft sob.

Mr Strange took Mr Norrell’s hands and squeezed them. “Gilbert, my sweet Gilbert! I love you, and only you! I could never fall in love with another. I have to confess that I lied to you about who that man was. He was not in fact an old acquaintance, not from the university or any where else.”

“But … Mr Drawlight said that he was an aspiring magician. I thought perhaps--”

“Well, I gather that he is somewhat interested in magic, but I do not believe that he has the talent or the fervent desire that a magician would require. He and I discussed magic briefly when he visited me, but his knowledge is no greater than he could obtain by doing a little reading of current publications. He probably has nothing more than a passing fancy to be a magician—as is the case with so many people these days.”

“But why did you lie to me, Jonathan?” Mr Norrell asked pathetically.

Mr Strange sighed and raised one of Mr Norrell’s hands to his lips. “I am sorry to have done so, Gilbert. It was merely because he had a book to sell. A rare book that Mr Drawlight told me you desired greatly. It is not often that a book of magic which you do not have comes on the market, and I conceived the idea of buying it for your birthday. Naturally I wished it to be a surprise, so I innocently deceived you about who my visitor was.”

Mr Norrell looked at him with dawning hope. “So, that gentleman really was simply selling you a book? But you saw him more than once and I heard you make an assignation … well, what I thought was an assignation with him.”

“I assure you, that book was my only motive in meeting with him. It is quite rare, and there was another gentleman interested in buying it. It took some negotiations, which involved meeting him three times, but at last I made the higher offer and purchased it. I saw him one last time, briefly, when I went to his lodgings, paid for the book, and carried it triumphantly back here.”

He leaned forward and pulled Mr Norrell against himself, enveloping him in his arms before continuing, “Oh, Gilbert, do not doubt my love for you! I cannot imagine that it could ever wane. But if it some how did—and I cannot begin to convey to you how unlikely that is—then I would surely tell you forthrightly rather than sneaking about behind your back to secret meetings with a new lover.”

The anxiety in Mr Norrell’s face faded during this, and at the end he pulled slightly back to look up at Mr Strange with all of the adoration he had previously shown him. “Oh, Jonathan, how could I ever have doubted your continued affection for me? It is just … that the other gentleman was so very handsome—like yourself ... and unlike me.”

Mr Strange waved his hand dismissively. “Were he twice as handsome as he is, it would not affect my feelings for you one jot!” He put his fingertips under Mr Norrell’s chin and tilted his head back so that he could stare into his eyes. “When you gaze at me with such love and devotion and joy, my heart could desire nothing more. And when you smile in the way that you reserve only for me, you are more endearing than any merely handsome man could be.” 

Mr Norrell’s smile in return was a bit watery, but his relief was manifest.

Mr Strange rose and said, “Here, let me offer you evidence, if you require any more, that my interest in that fellow was entirely aimed at obtaining for you something marvelous enough to be the first birthday present that I have ever had the opportunity to give you.”

He went to his desk, opened a drawer, and returned with a heavy package wrapped in brown paper. “I realize that your birthday will not occur for another week or so yet, and I have not had time to wrap your present appropriately, but here it is.”

Mr Norrell took the package and smiled at Mr Strange. “It is quite a large book.”

“It is indeed. I thought at first that I dared not purchase one for you, since I have not seen all the books here, let alone the contents of the even greater library that you have at Hurtfew Abbey. But Mr Drawlight assured me that he had heard you mention this as a volume that had eluded you for years and that you particularly desired to obtain. I hope he was correct in his recollection.”

Mr Norrell had removed the paper from the book and was staring at its cover. He gasped and said in a slightly shaky voice, “Oh, Jonathan! I have indeed long sought this extremely rare volume in vain. How ever did you find it?"

“Oddly enough, it was Mr Drawlight who informed me that he knew of a young man, an impoverished member of a wealthy family who had inherited it and was seeking to sell it to some one at a high price.”

Mr Norrell nodded. “Indeed, Mr Drawlight has occasionally told me about books of magic that he had discovered, one way or another, were for sale—but never anything nearly so rare.” He stretched up to kiss Mr Strange’s cheek and snuggled against him to open the book to the title page and examine it.

Mr Strange put an arm around his shoulders and watched him fondly. Eventually he said, “I have not looked into this book except to ascertain that it is in good condition and complete. I hope it is one that we could read together—whether or not it contains any dangerous ideas.”

“Oh, yes, with the greatest pleasure, Jonathan. Thank you!”

“You are quite welcome, Gilbert! Well, now might you find a pleasant way to reward me for my efforts?”

Mr Norrell smiled. “Perhaps in a way that would reward me at the same time?”

“If I play my part well, and I would do my best, then I believe it would, yes. I suppose Childermass might return at any minute. Shall we retire to your little study and reward each other there?”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

They removed to that delightfully private study. Mr Strange removed Mr Norrell’s breeches and smallclothes, urging him to lie face downward upon the convenient daybed. Mr Norrell struggled to turn around.

“Jonathan, you know that I prefer to lie facing upward so as to look into your beautiful face as we perform our intimacies.”

“Indeed, but now I have a mind to do something for you than I have not done hitherto. It would be more comfortable for you, I think, if you remained on your stomach for a time. Later on, you could turn over and resume our usual position. For now, however, I wish to please you in a new way.”

He arranged Mr Norrell with a cushion under his hips, so that his bottom was raised and easy for Mr Strange to squeeze and caress. Mr Norrell relaxed and sighed appreciatively as Mr Strange kneaded his buttocks. Then he grasped them and pulled them open so that he could examine the little puckered entrance that he had so often penetrated with his fingers and cock.

Mr Norrell presumed that Mr Strange would prepare him as usual, so he was startled when he felt a warm, moist tickling at his arsehole that was most unfamiliar—and stimulating. He made a little quick huffing sound that could best be recorded as “hahahahahahaha!”

He pulled himself together slightly and said, “Jonathan! Are you … are you doing what I think you are?”

Mr Strange drew back and said, “If you think I am using my tongue to loosen you—and give you pleasure at the same time—then, yes.”

“Oh, but Jonathan, how could you do such a thing?”

“Really, Gilbert, it is not unusual among lovers. You are quite a clean gentleman, and it is not at all unpleasant for me. Please, relax and enjoy it. I hope it will help prepare you so that I may enter you as usual.”

He resumed licking the little opening and eventually poking the tip of his tongue against it to encourage it to loosen. Eventually he was able to penetrate slightly inside. The adept flickering and swirling of his tongue were now eliciting little whickering moans from Mr Norrell, and Mr Strange pulled the hole open further with his thumbs, enabling him to push his tongue in even further.

After about five minutes Mr Strange’s tongue was beginning to weary from his efforts, and he rolled Mr Norrell over and used his fingers to further open and lubricate the now relaxed passage. His fingertips grazed the sensitive spot within, and Mr Norrell moaned with growing need and writhed slightly on the bed. Mr Strange watched his grimaces of pleasure, feeling his own cock grow to its full hardness.

Quickly he spread salve over the length of his erection and rubbed the tip against Mr Norrell’s slightly gaping hole. Its rim caressed and welcomed him, and he pushed his stiffness inside, gasping at the moist tightness that gripped him. Mr Norrell moaned and raised his legs to embrace Mr Strange’s waist as the man began to fuck him slowly, entering further in with each thrust, until he was fully embedded.

Mr Norrell rode him then, groaning with mounting pleasure, finally digging his heels into Mr Strange’s buttocks in an effort to pull himself harder onto the long shaft as it pumped into him. At last he uttered a little scream and gasped as his pleasure washed over him in waves. His spasming passage drove Mr Strange over the edge into ecstasy as well as his clenching balls emptied in spurts deep inside his lover.

Gradually they relaxed, and Mr Strange withdrew, cleaning them both as best he could with a handkerchief. The pair lay in each other’s arms for about half an hour, dozing slightly. At last they revived sufficiently to put on their clothes again. They sat side by side on the daybed, smiling lazily and rather foolishly at each other.

At last Mr Strange said, “Now that the matter of the ‘very handsome young man’ is settled, I want to clear some other things up. To begin with, I truly did not take that book off the shelf of forbidden books. I would not deceive you in such a fashion.”

“Oh, Jonathan, you need not persist in trying to deny it. I have forgiven you, and it all turned out well.”

“But, Gilbert, why would I bring it up now if I really had taken the book? It would be a matter of forgive and forget, as you say. But I raise it to make us both perfectly frank and truthful with each other.”

Mr Norrell stared at him. “Well, then, who could have taken it and hidden it in your room?”

“Well, Childermass was not here, and I cannot believe he would pull such a prank. It’s not his sort of humour. That leaves only two possibilities.”

Mr Norrell’s mouth dropped open in the surprise. “Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles, you mean! But … but why would they play you such a cruel trick? You would obviously be blamed.”

“I fear you are too trusting when it comes to those two. They clearly were disgusted that I was gaining such favour with you at their expense. Besides, has it not occurred to you that you and I have had serious disagreements three times in relatively quick succession now, despite the fact that we love each other very much?”

“Yes, well, in the first two cases at least, you did incautious things that led to my being angry—though that anger soon passed, of course.”

“Undoubtedly, but those incautious things, I believe, were both caused by Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles—and come to think of it, this misunderstanding about Mr Clarke probably was as well.”

Mr Norrell thought for a moment. “Well, I suppose in the case of the ‘borrowed’ book, they might have realized that the volumes on that those shelves were the ones I did not intend for you to read until you were well into your studies. I wonder, though, how they could get access to your bedroom.”

“I do not know, but I would imagine that Mr Drawlight managed it. He is quite a sly fellow and keeps his eyes open for any stray chance that he can turn to his advantage. Perhaps he pretended to leave for a time and instead slipped upstairs and placed the book in my room. What he did thereafter I do not know, but I do recall that he did dined with us on the evening before the day when you noticed that gap in the bookshelf. I noted that because I have been suspicious of those two ever since. Perhaps he lingered somewhere in the house without our realizing it.”

“Yes, he might have been undetected if you stayed in the library. I believe I was gone for much of that day.”

“Indeed. In the second instance, when Sir Walter called to ask for your help, I was reluctant to go in your place. It was Mr Drawlight who urged me to do so, and Mr Lascelles came in to accompany me to the Admiralty. It was he who arranged for me to do that task myself. I thought at the time that they might be trying to make amends for their unkind trick with the book. Then you reacted the way you did, and I wondered whether they were trying to make you think that I was overly ambitious and taking advantage of your reputation to create greater fame for myself.

“As for Mr Clarke, it was Mr Drawlight who arranged the whole thing. He told me of the rare book that you wanted and pointed me toward a man who had such a book for sale. I should not be surprised if he provided the book and the two of them hired someone to act as a dealer—some one handsome who might cause you to become jealous. Certainly they hit upon a circumstance that I would wish to keep secret—buying a present for you.”

Mr Norrell stared at him in dismay through this explanation. “But … but if this is all true, they have betrayed my trust unconscionably.”

“Yes, and I think you would be wise to rid yourself of both of them as soon as possible. Who knows what lengths they might go to once they learn that their latest scheme has failed?”

Mr Norrell wrung his hands nervously. “But how could I get along without them? Mr Drawlight handles my social obligations, and Mr Lascelles edits _The Friends of English Magic_ and makes sure that my name is in the newspapers regularly.”

Mr Strange gave a little snort and replied, “I think you are well-known enough by now that your name would appear in the newspapers regularly without his assistance. As for _The Friends_ , I could edit it for you!”

“But, Jonathan, you are already heavily occupied with your studies. It takes Mr Lascelles the better part of each afternoon on each weekday to keep it going.”

Mr Strange chuckled. “Sir, the actual work he does while here does not occupy all his time. I am sure I could handle it in an hour a day—and not necessarily every day. I might need some assistance, but I would imagine Childermass could help me.”

Mr Norrell considered this. “Yes, Childermass often has opinions on the subject of _The Friends._ Mr Lascelles usually ignores them, but I suspect some of them might be worth listening to. I do not understand, though, why it seems to take Mr Lascelles so long to edit the journal.”

“Mr Lascelles lingers over his task to be able to eat sumptuously at your expense and bask in the glory of being your colleague. And more important to him, I doubt not, is his ability to keep a sharp eye on your doings. Most of all, he seeks to alienate you from me with these schemes that the two have carried out. They have failed largely because you love me so. You have not allowed any thing to part us, Gilbert, and I believe that you never will.”

Mr Norrell stared at him, shocked, with his mouth hanging slightly open. Finally he ventured, “I suppose I can understand why they would try to control me, since I am, as you say, the source of their current high position in public opinion. But how could they do such dreadful things to you?”

“They dislike me intensely, that is why.”

“How could they … how could anyone dislike you? You are so lovable.”

Mr Strange laughed. “Not from their standpoint!”

“Jonathan, I have never loved anyone in my adult life, and yet I love you. You must be extraordinarily lovable.”

Mr Strange smiled fondly at him. “That does not follow at all, but it is very sweet of you to say so. I thought I was lucky to be taken on as your pupil in magic, but to have you fall in love with me has been even better.”

There was a short silence before Mr Norrell replied, “I had no idea to what extent they were trying to manipulate me. I have never particularly liked either of them—but then, I do not tend to like most people I meet, so I did not think much of it. As I said, they did make my life much easier.”

“I do not doubt that you were unable to see through those two. They are practiced in deception, and you, my dearest Gilbert, are not a man of the world.”

Mr Norrell wrung his hands. “Oh, I am all too well aware that I am not. I have often said so to Childermass. The world, I confess, frightens me much of the time—more so than magic does, despite its many perils. I do need protection, I must admit. Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles regularly spoke on my behalf at social events, which for the most part was quite a relief and allowed me to enjoy those events to some extent.”

“But you have Childermass to protect you.”

“Yes, but ... well, he is a servant, after all, and not able to move in the circles that these men do. I cannot always have access to his help and advice.”

Strange tugged him into his arms again. “I do not yet know all of London’s ways—as if one ever could—but I promise that I shall protect you to the best of my ability.” 

Mr Norrell hugged him tightly.

“I shall never doubt you again, Jonathan. You are right. I don’t need Lascelles. I don’t need Drawlight. You can do all that for me.”

“Indeed I can. Between me and Childermass, we should be able to protect you from such scoundrels and help you run your life.”

“I feel so foolish that I let them trick me in such a fashion.”

“I know, Gilbert, I know,” Mr Strange replied, cuddling him and kissing his forehead.

After a few quiet minutes, Mr Norrell mumbled into Mr Strange’s jacket sleeve, “How am I to rid myself of them?”

Mr Strange loosened his embrace, and Mr Norrell sat up. He looked quite anxious. Mr Strange realized that his tutor could not face down the two and tell them never to darken his doorway again. He thought for a moment.

“They would never accept such a dismissal from me. I think, however, that Childermass would be quite up to the job.” He grinned.

They went back down to the library and found Childermass at his desk. They crossed the room, and he looked at up at them inquiringly.

Mr Norrell said, “Childermass, I have a task for you, if you are willing to accept it. It surely does not fall within the scope of your ordinary duties, but … well, I should like you to inform Mr Lascelles and Mr Drawlight that their services are no longer required and they are not welcome here.”

Childermass ordinarily was adept at hiding his emotions, but he could not suppress a crooked grin that slowly crept across his face. “Are you serious, sir?” he asked, glancing at Mr Strange for confirmation.

Mr Strange smiled. “Indeed, we have come to the conclusion that those two have committed enough mischief here and that I can perform most of their duties, including editing _The Friends of English Magic_ , no doubt with some assistance from you.”

“Aye, I would enjoy that, sir. Mr Lascelles would take any of my suggestions about _The Friends_ only if Mr Norrell supported them, whereas you no doubt would consider them a good deal more seriously on their own merits. As to speaking to the two of them, I should be more than happy to do so. Oh, you needn’t worry, Mr Norrell, sir. I shan’t cause any unpleasantness. I shall be very deferential in giving them their marching orders. I just want to savour the looks on their faces when I tell them that their days here are over.”

The gong sounded at that moment, and the two magicians left to have their dinner. Childermass sat for a short time with a shadow of his grin still upon his face. Abruptly he crossed to the small table by the fireplace where decanters of sherry and madeira-wine sat upon a tray. He poured himself a glass of sherry, lifted it briefly and muttered, “To this happy day.” He drank it down and stood silently chuckling.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A short time later, as pupil and tutor lingered over a slice of cheese and glass of port, Mr Norrell said suddenly, “When the war is over, Jonathan, I hope you will come to live with me at Hurtfew. It is such a lovely house, with a well-maintained park surrounding it. And the river, so beautiful and pure! So suited to magic! I have never been convinced that the water here in London is quite as effectual for magical spells. We could be delightfully happy together there, reading and doing magic in no one’s interests but ours. Well, a few tasks now and then for the good of the nation. But we would be in my library, which is twice as large as this one—and of course, the books here will return there as well. Will you come and live with me there, Jonathan?”

“All that you describe sounds idyllic indeed, Gilbert! Of course I shall live with you there. I have a reliable manager to care for my estate in Shropshire, and I would not need to visit there more than two or three times a year. But I would never stay away from you longer than I needed to. Yes, we should be most delightfully happy together there!”

They raised their glasses in a toast to that rosy future, not realizing that they were echoing Childermass’ gesture in celebration of the defeat of Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

September, 1815

Late one afternoon Mr Strange entered the library at Hurtfew. He had been living in Mr Norrell’s Yorkshire home for only a few weeks now, but already he treasured their simple routines of reading, conducting lessons, casting spells, and satisfying their passion whenever they felt the urge.

He found Mr Norrell seated before the fire reading. He glanced up welcomingly and returned to his book. 

“Gilbert, might you be feeling a little cold?”

Mr Norrell looked up again and smiled. “Not particularly, thank you. The fire is quite pleasant, in fact.” His eyes went back to the page.

Mr Strange stared at him in a meaning manner. “Are you sure you are not feeling just the least bit chilly? Do you not wish to be warmed up?”

Mr Norrell looked up yet again, puzzled. Then, seeing a certain smile playing about Mr Strange’s lips, he said, “Oh! Uh, well, that is, upon consideration, I do feel a slight chilliness and would indeed appreciate being warmed up.”

Mr Strange grinned and came to sit beside him. Oddly enough, his method of warming up Mr Norrell involved removing a few crucial items of his clothing. Equally oddly, Mr Norrell did not object in the slightest.

When they were finished warming each other up, they pulled a small lap blanket over themselves and lay cuddling on the sopha. They did not fear any intrusion by Childermass, since he seemed instinctively to know when they needed privacy. The weak sunshine of late afternoon flowed through the window and bathed them in a glow unblighted by any unnatural darkness. The clocks ticked quietly, slowly counting out the hours and days that the two magicians shared in utter bliss.


End file.
